


Shadow Fall

by OneforAll



Category: The Musketeers (2014)
Genre: Anal Sex, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, M/M, Sharing a Bed
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-05
Updated: 2016-01-29
Packaged: 2018-04-07 20:56:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 35,078
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4277634
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OneforAll/pseuds/OneforAll
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This follows on from the Progidal Father in season 2 and is a slight A/U in which the events of the last two episodes did not happen as per the series.  The backdrop is that Athos and Aramis recently became lovers after the traumatic events of Through A Glass Darkly a few weeks before.</p><p>Basically because I saw a way to avoid all those deaths and near-deaths, and so Aramis did not have to think about going off to the blinking monastery</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Shadow Fall

Once again Aramis paced the small square area with its surrounding of high hedges, pulling his cape a little more closely around him; the night air was growing a little chilly. He tried to still the churning feeling in his stomach. He thought of the irony, that not so long ago the thought of a secret meeting with a lady by evening in the palace gardens would have filed him with butterflies of a different type. The thrill of a romantic encounter; the clandestine nature making it all the more intimate and exciting.

And now all he could think about was Athos, and what he would make of this. Wished for the tenth time that he had told his lover about Marguerite's note. Hoped it was not going to cause trouble between them. Grateful that D'Artagnan had asked Athos to have a drink with him tonight , saving him to have to find an excuse for his own absence.

He peered through the gap in the hedge once more. Paced the sides of the little square again, Where the hell was Marguerite? Had it not been for the urgent,, entreating tone of the message: "Please, if you ever had any regard for me, do not fail to meet me. I need your help."

Once again, he wished he'd said something to Athos. What was his male lover of several week to make of the fact that he was here having a secret meeting, not just with a former female lover, but the last before--

His world had changed forever, he caught himself thinking, smiling a little despite the chiills of both anxiety and cold that were nagging at him. That was the only way to describe it. Life-altering, this thing he had with Athos, making him feel emotions of a depth and strength of which he hadn't known himself capable.

The last place he had wanted to be tonight was standing in the cold waiting for an old flame but he had judged it best to see first what Marguerite had to say. He owed her thar much; he knew he had not treated her as well as he could have. There was also the possibility that with her place in the royal household, Marguerite might be alerting him to some problem affecting the queen.

Looking at the little double seat, he remembered how he'd sat with Marguerite only months before, as they had one of their first meetings on a night like this , silvery with moonlight. It seemed like a lifetime ago. All he could think about was what it would be like to be here with Athos now, with things so different between them. Some dry comment that romantic trysts by moonlight were best for summer nights, not for the crispness of autumn. But would nevertheless gather him up into his arms and kiss him in a way that would banish all thoughts of cold...

He was started out of his reverie by the awareness of a soud nearby, then realised it was only the hooting of an owl. He found himself smiling slightly: he really couldn't go too long these days without thinking about Athos...

"Damn it, Marguerite, where are you?" he muttered to himself, pacing again. She was already quarter of an hour late. He'd give it another ten minutes then he really must think of leaving. Maybe try to get some word to her tomorrow? Swop a shift so he could pull sentry duty at the palace, perhaps. If he did so, he was not quite sure how he would get that past Athos without a proper explanation. Discovered that he did not want to, For the first time in his life he found himself in a relationship where he didn't want to conceal things. They'd spent years secretly wanting, loving each other. So it no longer sat well with him to hide things from Athos.

His reverie was interrupted by another sound, but this time it really was footsteps. He drew back into the shelter of the box hedge but in a place that would give him a view of the person approaching. He saw a cloaked, hooded figure, too petite and slender to be that of a man approach, pausing to look cautiously from side to side then proceeded into the enclosure.

"Aramis?" a shaky voice called out, Marguerite. Aramis stepped out of the shadows.

"Marguerite," he said softly.

"You came--thank God!" The comtesse pulled back her hood, eyes anxiously seeking those of Aramis. The face of the woman who not so long ago had been his lover shocked him completely. He hadn't seen her at close quarters for about two weeks, having thought it best not to cause any more pain or ill feeling after he broke with her. She had not looked happy at that interview but there had not been this gaunt, haunted look about her. Her skin was almost translucently pale and her eyes--something in them spoke of great anxiety, fear,.

"Of course--the tone of your message concerned me greatly," he said gently, perceiving that she was trembling. "I feared you had been delayed."

"I'm sorry. I had to take care that I wasn't being followed. He has eyes everywhere." There was something almost wild in the way her gaze swept around the hedged enclosure that reminded him of a fawn in the forest, alert for some predator's footfall.

"There is no--one else around," Aramis said reassuringly. "I have made sure of it." Seeing the distress in the eyes fastening onto his, the body language that spoke of nerves stretched like piano wire, his chevalric instincts kicked in and he took her hands in his. "Come here and sit down," he urged, leading her over to the seat. "You're shaking. Now, please, tell me what is wrong."

Marguerite sat for a moment, closing her eyes as though gathering herself, seeking strength to continue.

"What is wrong is--him! The evil. The poison at the centre of our court--Rochefort!" She spat out the words bitterly.

Rochefort.. That was not a name that Aramis had any problems associating with fear or trouble. But there was something...personal in this, in the way Marguerite was trembling with what seemed like suppressed rage--and terror.

"Marguerite, what has he done to you?" he cried, fearing suddenly that the arrogant nobleman might have tried to force himself upon her, outraged at the idea.

"What has he done? I do not know how to start telling you!" Marguerite declared and Aramis wasn't sure what gripped her more strongly: anger, or the hint of tears starting to form at the corner of her eyes. "He has forced me to do a terrible thing. And I have allowed it! I have come to warn you and beg your forgiveness!"

A tremor of prescience ran through Aramis'; a feeling of darkness coming over him as it had covered the sun on the day of the eclipse. But for now he must gather courage, offer some sort of comfort to his former lover, hear her story.

"Rochefort! I knew in my gut when I saw him in Spain there was something .. rotten in him. Come, my dear, tell me what you came here to say.."

Again Marguerite took in a ragged breath then squared her shoulders. She looked at him directly but was unable to stem the fall of the tears that were now falling down her cheeks.

"Rochefort...a few weeks ago he managed to find out about our liaison. He...threatened to reveal it to my father, or make it public. Ruining my reputation and any chance of a decwnt marriage."

Aramis' stomach flipped over. Of course this would have been an appalling prospect for Marguerite, and leverage to a power-mad blackmailer. It was all too believable of what he knew and feared about Rochefort's character.

"At first I think all he wanted was a pair of eyes in the Queen's household. It didn't seem...that I was doing anything too bad. Then there was the episode at Marmion's castle, when you came to help the Queen and the rest of us. I thought I saw something between you and her Majesty. About the Dauphin."

Again Aramis's stomach turned over and he began to get a horrible presentisment about where this was going.

"After that Rochefort began to put more pressure on me, more threats to reveal our affair. God help me, I told him about my suspicions that you had at some time been involved with the Queen. He asked me to obtain the crucifix you wear. When you broke things off with me, I was hurt--jealous," she confessed, casting he eyes downwards. "I gave in, did what he asked of me, and later, gave it back to you. I am sorry..." She came to a halt, her voice sunk to a whisper.

Despite all the terrible implications of what she was telling him, all he could think about in that moment was the huge compassion he felt for her. If there was any guilt to be borne for this, the greater burden was his.

"Marguerite, if not for me you would not be in this position," he said, squeezing her hands, "If anyone here should be sorry, it's not you. But go on--you have more to tell me?"

Gathering herself, she continued. "I don't know exactly what, but it had some personal significance for him. You know he was the Queen's tutor before she came to France? I believe he has been obsessed with her since then. The way he looks at her sometimes--it scares me."

It just got worse and worse, Aramis thought, his head spinning.

"Of late, he has become more intense, more unhinged. The way he watchs the Queen. It terrifies me. He is so driven, ruthless. " She paused for breath, and Aramis waited for what other terrible things she might reveal. "He is an agent of the Spanish. I think that when his mission started, it was to get to the heart of the court, spy for them. But it has become personal. He wants control over the Queen, and the country. I believe he would bring down the King, if he had to . Given how close he has gotten himself to him, he might be able to do it. And if he cannot get the Queen to submit to his manipulations, he is capable of bringing her down also. One of the ways he might do it..is to say that you are the Dauphin's father.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After learning of Rochefort's identity as a Spanish agent from Marguerite, Aramis must come to terms with the threat of the spy's possible knowledge of his liaison with the Queen.

Chapter 2 

"One of the ways he may do it is to say the Dauphin is your son."  
Marguerite looked at Aramis, as though to ask for confirmation of the truth.  
"Marguerite, I..." he said haltingly, "it is something I cannot speak about," was all he could manage at last. He couldn't remember ever feeling so shame-faced, so culpable for the consequences of his sins.  
Marguerite just nodded. "Yes, I can see why," she said without reproachement. Just a kind of sad, flat acceptance; even a kind of pity. "But now-- I fear for myself; that is the least of it. I fear for what he could do to you, to your brother musketeers, the Queen. The child I care for every day. I fear for our country itself." She was shaking uncontrollably now, tears cascading freely down her face. "For he is insane, clever and ruthless. I can do nothing to stop him--not on my own. I..had to tell you, Warn you. For maybe you can somehow find a way?" The look she gave Aramis was one of desperate entreaty.  
Aramis's head whirled. He was glad he had the seat underneath him: his entire body felt weakened as the reality of Marguerite's revelations settled over him. The burden that had now in a way shifted from he to him. The danger it represented. At the moment the personal peril seemed like a distant, almost negligible thing. Far worse was his concern for the others affected. The child who might be his. The Queen. To Athos. The words came thundering back into his mind.  
"You will be hanged, and me along with you."  
In that instant, he knew there'd been some deep, fundamental shift in his priorities these last few weeks.  
Athos. Who he loved more than anything else on tnis earth.  
And, by association, danger to the others close to them: Porthos, D'Artagnan, Constance. For their sake, he had to find a way to get through this.  
"Marguerite," he pressed his hands over hers again, "I know what courage it must have taken for uou to come here tonight to tell me this. And I will be forever grateful that you did. I can only imagine what torture Rochefort has put you through these past few weeks. "But you are not alone in this any more,." He tried to sound reassuring but didn't want any more lies between them. "At this moment I am not exacty sure how it can be accompished but I swear, on everything I hold sacred, that I will try to find a way to thwart his plans; make sure he pays for what he has done to you. I don't have much power in my own right, but I am not alone. I have allies who I know will never desert me." He closed his eyes, wishing he didn't have to involve his beloved Athos and his other friends in this, but there was simply no othe choice. now--the stakes were too high. "I could stick a knife in Rochefort's guts, for what he has made you suffer!" he spat out angrily. That was the worst of it, that this woman, a bystander in this whole affair, had been dragged in up to her neck and was in danger of drowning.  
"Oh, believe me, I've felt desperate enough these past few days, when alone with him, to think of plunging a knife between his ribs and damning the consequences!" Marguerite declared, trying to wipe away some of her tears. "Say he tried to take my virtue, or some such. But it might just make things worse. When the King went missing before the Dauphin's christening, Rochefort was closeted with the Queen for long periods. I fear that he might have started his machinations then; that he has something stored away that he could use against her."  
His head whirled. With access to the Cardinal's papers and minions, there was no knowing what kind of incriminating material Rochefort might have obtained. "Yes." Aramis sighed, imagining the Queen's vulnerability during such a period. "We must assume he would grasp any opportunity to further his aims. Who knows what he might have already have fed back to the Spanish or what fallbacks he might have in place in the event of anything happening to him."  
"He is capable of anything, believe me," Marguerite assured him.  
"So it is not just a matter of stopping Rochefort, but finding out what kind of damage he might be capable of causing," he mused aloud. Somehow getting access to Rochefort's records? And how that might be accomplished. More than ever before, he found himself longing for Athos's cool perspective, his strength and wisdom.  
"Let me think about this . How best to proceed."  
"Do not delay too long," Marguerite urged him, "for he really is unhinged, gets more reckless as his power over the King grows."  
"No, I promise," he assured her, applying pressure to her hands again, trying to provide some sort of comfort. He at least owed that to the suffering woman before him, even if at this moment he wasn't sure exactly how this could be accomplished. "I just want to make sure we take the right course of action; don't tip our hand and push him into doing anything irrevocable."  
Marguerite seemed slightly mollified by this, tried to regain some sort of control over her emotions.  
"What can I do, in the meantime?"  
This cheered Aramis a little, as it showed she no longer wished to play the victim.  
"For now, if he approaches you, try not to act any differently with him. " He hated to ask this of a woman whose nerves were already shredded into pieces but he really couldn't see another option until some sort of plan could be formulated. "It will not be for long, I hope."  
Marguerite didn't look overjoyed but seemed a little steadier. She could obviously see the sense of this. "What of the Queen? Should I speak to her sbout any of this?"  
"I think it best for both of you to say nothing for now. It might be dangerous, especially for you, if he was to get any hint of what you've told me."  
Aramis knew he had another channel to the Queen, if need be, through Constance. Loath thoughh he was to use it, Constance had a cooler head and stronger nerves than Marguerite at present. Agaun Marguerite nodded; she looked weary, still troubled, but perhaps slightly calmer than she'd done earlier.  
"I will get word to you as soon as I can." Again, he thought, he might need to call on Constance's help. hating the way this was spiralling, putting at risk the people he cared about.  
"Very well. I will tread carefully." Marguerite promised. "And try not to put any of us at greater risk. It helps to know I have your support." She closed her eyes for a moment, then continued in a whisper. "You and me--was it just about...the thing you cannot speak of?"  
"In part," Aramis admitted. When he'd caught the Dauphin's nursery maid giving him covert glances it had seemed like an opportunity he might not otherwise have had to get a little closer to the child. He owed her some honesty, after what she had suffered by her association with him. "But not only that. I liked you; enjoyed spending time with you. Otherwise I would never have embarked on this. It seemed that until you found yourself a suitable husband, we could offer each other some pleasure and comfort. I would never have started this if I thought it would put you in the way of danger or harm, and I am sorry, with all my heart, that it has."  
Marguerite looked up at him sadly and just nodded, absorbing what he'd said, accepting it. For a moment it looked as though she wanted to speak of it further but instead squared her shoulders, holding herself up straighter. Aramis guessed that pride was not allowing her to say what he suspected: that in the end, however it had started, their affair had come to mean more to her than she'd expected. He would not make it worse for her by pretending that he'd ever been in love with her. The best he could do for her now was make sure she knew he wouldn't abandon her to the machinations of Rochefort. After a moment she squeezed the hand that lay over hers.  
"Well, none of us could have accounted for Rochefort, could we?" The ghost of an ironic smile played on her lips. "I had best get back, before I am missed."  
He nodded and they climbed to their feet.  
"Please for your own sake, be careful!" he urged her. "For now carry on with your usual routine as best you can. I will get word to you when I have any news." 

"And I, if I find out any more about what he is planning"  
They looked at each other for a long moment, both aware that they were at the place where they had spent happier, intimate moments at the beginning of their affair. How could they have thought back then that they'd end up at this juncture, with threats hanging over their future and that of their country?  
"Again, I'm sorry that I brought all this down on you." Aramis reached across and touched her cheek. "Rochefort will pay for what he's done to you!" he added vehemently.  
"And I'm sorry I gave in to him and put you in his firing line." Marguerite's eyes glistened. "But I will do all I can to help bring him down."  
"Take care, till I see you again." Moved by the determination he saw on her face and the courage it had taken for her to overcome her fears, he pulled her into a brief hug.  
She lingered in the embrace for a moment, saying against his shoulder, "You take care also. I would not see any harm come to you."  
They pulled apart and made their way out of the enclosure.  
"Shall I see you back to the palace?"  
"No, best not," she said. "Less risk that way." And with a last little rueful glance over her shoulder, she went off in the direction of the palace. Aramis stood for a while, watching her retreating figure, ensuring no -one else was around, than made his own way out of the palace grounds.  
As he strode across the gardens he felt as if the night's chill was invading his body and creeping into his soul. The consequences of his actions with the Queen, coming back to haunt him with a vengeance. Worse than that, on everyone close to him. However much he might want to, he couldn't keep them out of this: there was too much at stake.  
He passed out of the palace grounds in something of a haze, barely noticing the contrast between the genteel tranquility of the gardens to the evening bustle of the city's streets. As he walked past houses and taverns he was thinking of things he'd seen in and around the palace the past few months that were starting to make sense. The assassination of Ambassador Perales. The attempt on the life of Chancellor Dupre. Even Rochefort's dismissal of Milady from the palace. A gradual removal of anyone or anything that stood between him and his desire to manipulate the King.  
Aramis had intended to go straight home but instead found his feet leading him to a tavern and ordering a drink. Athos probably wouldn't be home just yet from his evening with D'Artagnan. He imagined his lover coming through the door full of cheer after his night with their Gascon friend, who was always good company.  
And here am I, ready to greet him with the news that our future is in the hands of a power-hungry, unbalanced agent of Spain? Aramis let the wine drain down his throat, barely tasting it. Athos would support him through this, he knew, however angry he and the others might be at his folly. But would it stretch his love to the point of breaking?  
I wouldn't blame him if it did, he thought sombrely. Is this how I am to be punished for my sins? To have finally found something so good, so real. Love that completed him, made him whole. For though they'd only been intimate for a few short weeks, Aramis knew that whatever had gone before was just some pale illusion of love. But this passion, although very much of the body, also consumed his soul, his spirit, He already knew, even after this brief period of time, that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with Athos.  
Which might not last for too much longer if Rochefort got his way, he thought grimly, downing the last of his wine. The really galling thing was that the other people he cared for could be dragged down with him. Not only his own circle, but the Queen. After experiencing the love that Athos offered, Aramis had realised that he'd allowed himself to be carried away on a romantic illusion with Anne. She was of a different calibre to any other woman he'd ever know and he'd continue to admire and respect her above all others. He also wanted to protect her, as the mother of his child and the threat that Rochefort posed to her and the baby appalled and angered him greatly.  
He sat for a moment, wondering whether to get another drink. Decided with a sigh that it wouldn't help. He still had to go home and face the music. He was both longing for Athos's presence and strength and dreading the anger and reproach he might quite justifiably be subjected to. He made his way out into the night air and directed his steps without enthusiasm onto the short journey home.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Athos and d'Artagnan talk about life, love and proposals

Chapter 3 

Earlier that evening in a tavern not far from the one Aramis had just left, Athos had found himself crossing the bustling barroom with a bottle of the best bordeaux the house had to offer. He saw d'Artagnan's eyes widen slightly, and the younger man start to reach into his pocket.  
"It's on me," Athos told him, with the hint of a smile. "Well, thank you!" d'Artagnan said sincerely. "Not quite what I'd expected from a midweek drink!"  
"I thought possibly the occasion might warrant it." Athos placed the bottle in the middle of the table and pulled up a seat next to his younger friend. "Talking of proposing to Constance," he added in response to the quirk of d'Artagnan's eyebrow.  
"Gods, how do you always know everything?" d'Artagnan said with a laugh. "Or am I that transparent?"  
"It has not been difficult to guess what has been on your mind of late." There was a touch of affection in the smile Athos bestowed on the younger man. "Aramis's comment when I left him was "Tell him to get on with it!" And I believe Porthos is already planning your bachelor night--God help us all!" he chucked dryly as he poured them each a measure of the dark red wine. "I, however, know it is a matter of some weight, and hence deserves to be discussed over a wine of some gravity! He clinked his goblet with that of d'Artagnan.  
"Ooh...that's so good.." d'Artagnan savoured his first taste of the wine, He appreciated the gesture: one of the best vintages from his homeland. "You are a very classy drinking companion, my Lord," he added with that warm grin of his. "With very good taste!"  
"Well the calibre of the lady we will no doubt be toasting warrants a good vintage." Athos took an experimental sip himself, pleased at the quality. It was a while since he'd sampled a good bordeaux. "So... you are going to ask her to marry you?"  
"Well, yes... of course. I think so.. Naturally...If she'll have me..."d'Artagnan muttered in a distracted manner, then laughed at himself. "Sorry. Porthos says I've gone round like a man walking under water these past few days. It's..such a big step, isnt it? There are just a few things I'd like your take on..."  
" If I can help...?"  
"Well, you're the only one of my friends who's been married. Now look," d'Artagnan said seriously, "if are paths you don't want to go down, I understand. Just tell me to shut up and I will. I don't want to rake up the bad stuff for you. I'd just like to know how it feels...to take the plunge."  
Athos nodded, smiling slightly; touched by the younger man's consideration of his feelings, and his trust. Though his own marriage had failed, there had been better times at the beginning, and if his insight could help d'Artagnan, he was willing to offer it.  
"Do you know, I gave Constance an ultimatum a couple of days ago--said I might not wait around forever!" d'Artagnan rolled his eyes. "And she told me today that Doctor Lemay had asked for her hand. What kind of idiot am I?"  
"Not perhaps the wisest of moves, my impetuous friend," Athos said, not trying to hide his amusement.  
"Tell me about it!" d'Artagnan said with feeling. "Fortunately for me she turned him down. I need to get my act together soon. I know it's not long after Bonacieux's death and I don't want to push too hard but I need to convince her I'm serious."  
"And you do love her." It was a statement, not a question.  
"Oh, God, yes!" d'Artagnan took another long swallow of his wine. "And I want to do things properly. You know, when I first left home, the idea of marriage never really occurred to me. If I did think about it, it was as something for the distant future, that I might do once I'd proved myself as a soldier and seen a bit more of life. And now I'm anxious to enter into it! I know I'm just at the start of my career. I'm not exactly rolling in money and I don't have an awful lot to offer her. Am I being too impetuous?"  
"Impetuousness in itself isn't always a bad thing," Athos commented, "as long as it's driven by certainty, and rooted in reality. I wasn't that much older than you when I proposed to Anne. Like you I was strong-willed, wouldn't be gainsayed by anyone. But there's an important difference with you and Constance. You know each other a lot better than Anne and I did. You've been through hardships together that have helped you learn about each other. As for money.." He shrugged. "We lacked for nothing materially, because of my position, but it still foundered, because it was seed sown on stony ground. and could never have flourished. You and Constance are an entirely different matter." He saw that d'Artagnan was intent on his every word. "Do you want to know what I really think>"  
"Totally! I didn't just come out with you for the bordeaux, you know!" the younger man quipped,  
"Just as well, as our pockets could not run to it all the time!" Athos responded in like fashion, settling back in his chair and taking another swallow of his drink. "What I think is that I have never seen two people better suited to each other than you and Constance. She is one of the kindest, strongest, and bravest people I have ever met and you are well-matched with her!" He tried not to smile too much as d'Artagnan coloured slightly. "Constance is a jewel, and you'd be a fool to let her get away. Now, I know you are incautious on occasion," he stated, eyes crinkling at the corners, "but I've never had you down as a fool!"  
"Well, thank you for that!" d'Artagnan grinned and clinked his goblet with that of his friend. "Though I wonder how she has been able to endure my ability to put my foot in it, and put up with me."  
"Constance in nature as well as in name," Athos reminded him. "I think that probably means, my friend, that she returns your feelings in equal measure. "What's that quote...?" There was a phrase lurking in the back of his mind. " 'Love is patient, love is kind.'.."  
"Corinthians!" After a moment, d'Artagnan's memory kicked in. St Paul. It keeps no record of wrongs...' It's a long time since I read my scripture! What's the rest of it?"  
"'Love does not delight in evil but rejoices in the truth,'" Athos murmured, the words starting to come back into him. He had always found that particular verse and evocative; he recalled how when in the process of falling in love with Anne he had believed to captured the essence of their feelings for each other. "'It always protects, always hopes, always perserveres,'" he whispered, as the truth suddenly came to him: that what it described was what he had discovered so recently with Aramis. The staggering contrast in the two relationships--one based on lies, the other on trust.  
He came out of his reverie to see d'Artagnan looking at him with unspoken understanding, a little ironic smile playing on the Gascon's lips.  
"Do you think it would surprise Aramis to find us quoting the good book to each other?"  
"Would it not!" Athos snorted, "especially as we are supposed to be putting the world to rights over a few glasses of red!"  
d'Artagnan laughed. I don't know how many years it is since I read that! The legacy of my Mama, who always made me study my scripture. it's surprising what stays with you..."  
"Indeed it is; mine was the same," Athos responded, fleeting memories of his mother, sitting beside him at his lessons assailed him. The family bible in front of them, as she pointed out his name on the flyleaf along with those of other de la Feres who'd gone before him. His heart twisted for a moment. Then other images, more recent, surfaced in his consciousness. Kneeling beside Aramis on the previous Sunday, having been persuaded to accompany him to church, the words of the reading having some meaning to him for the first time in years. Then of making love with Aramis two nights ago, quoting phrases from the Song of Songs...  
"Well, perhaps it's time you dusted off your prayer book," he told d'Artagnan with a forthright look, "and brushed up on your knowledge of the wedding service." D'Artagnan gave him a smile of great warmth and appreciation. He knew the younger man looked to him for guidance, and that in giving his approval to the union, he was helping the Gascon validate his decision.  
Again, it was as though he had followed Athos's train of thought,for d'Artagnan raised his glass in an elegant salute, looking quite moved. He really is in love, Athos thought; knows it in others when he sees it.  
"I do intend to--if I can work up the nerve to do it properly!" the Gascon said with a shaky, self-deprecating smile.  
This made Athos laugh out loud, spluttering into his wine.  
"You-and nerve--are no strangers to each other!"  
"Oh, jumping out of windows, facing off with three of the Red Guard at once--that's nothing! The thought of proposing and maybe making a mess of it--now that is scary! The prospect of it is--" d'Artagnan cast around for words.  
"Glorious. Terrifying, Makes your palms sweat," Athos finished for him.  
"Now you are reading my mind!" The Gascon chortled. "Sweaty palms, heart thumping like a hammer--the works!"  
All feelings that were very familiar, Athos thought.The long-ago nerves of formulating a proposal. The all too recent experience of making a declaration of real love.  
"I think you'll find that's how it should be when you are thinking of something so life-changing. But do not let it worry you unduly," he added in his dry, teasing tone. "I don't see the regiment's most promising addition in years not being able to conquer a case of proposal trepidation!"  
"Well, thank you for the vote of confidence! Yes, I will do it. I just need to find the right time--and the right words.." d'Artagnan downed the rest of his glass and when he looked at the bottle noticed they seemed to have gone through it almost without noticing. "Do you want another one? I think I can run to a bottle of Anjou."  
He made to get up but Athos laid a hand on his arm.  
"I told you, this is on me tonight. And it would be a pity to spoil the taste of the bordeaux."  
"But-- d'Artagnan protested.  
"There's a rule," Athos favoured his companion with a commanding, amused look, "that says nervous prospective bridegrooms should have a decent vintage for fortification."  
"And from what book is this rule?" d'Artagnan asked laughingly.  
"The Law of Athos." he was informed.  
This made d'Artagnan throw back his head and laugh, spreading his hands in a gesture of surrender. While Athos went to the bar for another bottle, the Gascon took the chance to go nd relieve himself. A few minutes later they were sat together again recharging their glasses.  
"So...you are intent on asking her?" Athos prompted.  
"I don't know if the time's right, but I have to show her I'm serious."  
"You know she may not say yes straight away," Athos warned his younger friend. "Constance is a lady who likes to do things properly. It may be for the sake of propriety she feels she needs to wait a while longer after Bonacieux's death. If so, don't give up at the first refusal. Keep trying, and I think you will get your answer."  
"I will," d'Artagnan assured him. "I pushed too hard after Bonacieux's death. Even if she no longer loved him, I should have shown more respect."  
"Yes, your directness does get you into trouble sometimes," Athos commented smilingly. "The end of a marriage is not an easy thing, however it happens."  
D'Artagnan nodded; he knew Athos could write chapter and verse about that. They took a moment to drink a little more, then the Gascon continued.  
"Well, assuming I can persuade Constance to walk down the aisle with me, I have a favour to ask of you."  
Athos regarded his fried questioningly.  
"Would you stand with me as my best man?"  
A flush of pleasure and surprise coursed through Athos.  
"Really?"  
"I'd consider it a great honour," d'Artagnan said with the sincerity that was his forte. "Then I'd be more than honoured to accept."  
Athos really hadn't seen this coming, although he knew Aramis probably laugh at his surprise when he told him later. Such was the nobleman's affection for his younger friend that it was very easy to say yes.  
"Thank you." D'Artagnan's gratitude as they raised their glasses in another toast was heartfelt. "Yours is the strongest support I can think of, and I may need it on the day. I'm nervous enough just at the thought of proposing! Tell me--if you don't mind speaking of it--how does it actually feel to stand there in church and tak your vows?"  
"No, I don't mind," Athos said, surprising himself a little. He hadn't thought of his wedding day in years--a forbidden area, along with other memories of his marriage. "Whatever came after, the day itself was like no other in my life. The import of it hits you when you are standing waiting for your bride to arrive, if it hasn't already done so. Then saying your vows gives validation to the feelings that brought you there. Declaring it in front of other people embeds it deeply within you. " He found himself caught up in memory, trying to hold on to the good moments, finding as he did so that the effect was almost cathartic. "Whatever went wrong later, the day itself was what it should be--a celebration of love and commitment. You'll find that the desire to cherish and protect the person you love grows even deeper." As he spoke he realised he was not only talking of the old commitment but of the new one that overrode everything that had gone before; that already felt as deep as that of wedlock. "It's a defining day," he said in conclusion. "And if you are sincere about your vows, it will change you forever."  
"Thank you," d'Artagnan said with feeling, "I needed to hear that from someone who'd walked that path, and I'm sorry if it brought back things you'd rather not think about. But I had no--one else to ask."  
"And you need to know, before you start your journey. I think you're probably about as ready as you'll ever be," Athos declared. The trick, I think, is to pick the right partner--and I have no doubts about that! To Constance!"  
D'Artagnan raised his glass in turn, "To Constance! I just hope |I'm good enough for her."  
"I think you'd better leave that to the lady's good judgement" Athos chuckled, then added softly, "and thank you, also, for in speaking about this, I've realised it really is in the past."  
D'Artagnan gave him a long, considering look.  
"I'm glad about that. A couple of months ago I wouldn’t have dared broach the subject with you Knew you could do without those demons being raised again." Athos knew this to be true, for who was likely to understand better than the man who'd knelt beside him before the burning wreck of his former home, watching his pain and despair at the return of Milady. There was a pause as the Gascon took a long taste of the wine, clearly savouring the quality of the vintage. "Aramis is good for you," he commented.  
Athos blinked; although by now familiar with d'Artagnan's ability to cut through to the heart of a matter, sometimes it still caught him by surprise especially when it was directed towards himself. It was interesting, to say the least, to have the Gascon's perspective or it was too serious a subject for the younger man to have spoken of unless he believed it.  
"I believe so," the older man declared quietly, wondering anew at how his friend's smile could be shy and bold at the same time.  
"And you're good for Aramis," d'Artagnan added. "Both Porthos and I think so."  
Athos found his breath rather take away. So that was how their friends perceived their relationship. This night was turning out differently than he'd anticipated. A little paternal-style advice to bolstering his friend's pre-nuptial jitters, a few drinks and quips. Instead he'd found a sharing of confidences, with something refreshing and healing about it. The only other person he'd spoken to outside their circle was his godfather Lord Xavier, and then in only the briefest of terms. But d'Artagnan's ability to recognise real love in others when he saw it prompted an unexpected honesty in Athos.  
"I hope so," he said at last, "for he is my salvation."  
"When we first all met up I knew there was something big going on between you and Aramis. I just wasn't sure exactly what it was--so I called it brotherhood. So the day I knocked at your room after the Marmion business, I wasn't that surprised," the Gascon admitted then gave a cheeky grin. "Well, the blanket--that did surprise me a bit"  
Athos bit back a smile himself, remembering the first time he and Aramis had made love while staying at an inn on the way back to Paris to recuperate. D'Artagnan had knocked at their door and in a state of general befuddled euphoria Athos had grabbed a blanket and wrapped it around his waist to cover his nakedess before he went to admit d'Artagnan to the room. This had induced a fit of helpless giggling in his lover who later said the hastily assembled ensemble reminded him of a toga .  
"Well, I was caught off -guard," he admitted, trying to muster some semblance of his normally serious expression. "I try not to make a habit of it." However the memory was too funny and they both ended up laughing and toasting each other again. "I've said it before," Athos added, "but don't hesitate, now that you've found something right for you. Don't waste a moment of the time you have with Constance, It's just not worth it. I envy you--that you can declare your love before the world. That is a luxury Aramis and I will never have."  
D'Artagnan gave him a sympathetic look. "I know. Love is love, and there's no justice in a world that won't allow a show of anything beyond law and custom. I thought for a while that Constance and I were going to have to defy convention. No matter what I thought about Bonacieux, it isn't right that a man had to die so two people who love each other could be together. Still, what's important surely, is your intent. Like you say," he added with an empathic smile, "If you find something right, you have to hang on to it."  
"Oh, I do intend to," Athos assured him with quiet fervour. "But the support of friends is...appreciated."  
"You'll always have that, Constance's too. I would most likely not be here but for the amount of times you have all helped save my sorry arse!"  
"All for one!" Athos said with surface levity but the meeting of their eyes spoke of invisible but deep bonds, quietly acknowledged.  
"All for one," d'Artagnan assserted laughingly, "also means letting me buy the drinks next time!"  
Athos was about to say the other would soon have a wedding to think about but he knew the younger man's pride would not let him argue the toss, so he just said smilingly, "If you insist."  
They had emptied their goblets and looked at the bottle, which contained perhaps another glass for each of them, then at each other.  
"Tempting though it is to linger over this..."  
"I know. Duty tomorrow." Athos sighed, also thinking that the days when he drank as an escape, not just as a pleasure, were gone. There was someone waiting at home with..expectations that might not be fulfilled if he partook in an excess of bordeaux, no matter how good. "Take it home for you and Constance to enjoy," he urged d'Artagnan, handing him the bottle.  
"Thank you" d'Artagnan said again as he corked the bottle then they stood and put on their capes. "For everything."  
"And to you!" It had been an illuminating evening. He wouldn't have believed a year ago when he first met the hot-headed Gascon who'd somehow managed to engage all three of their group in a duel, that he'd end up exchanging such confidences with the younger man, who fit with them almost immediately as though he'd always belonged there, completing and strengthening their circle. Now that Constance had entered the equation, it felt like she was also family.  
"When Constance says yes to you, I promise as tradition demands we will all four go out and get royally drunk."  
"Now, I am going to hold you to that!" D'Artagnan gave his mentor an infectious grin and once they were through the door of the inn, Athos found himself pulled into a firm hug, whch he returned.  
"See you on duty tomorrow," Athos said when they got to the end of the short lane leading from their tavern on to the wider street where they'd part company, d'Artagnan to go one way towards his lodge, Athos the other.  
"Give my love to 'Mis!" D'Artagnan said over his shoulder , throwing Athos a teasing grin just before he turned the corner.  
"Cheeky pup!" Athos thought, unable to stop smiling, Impudence of the devil, that one!  
I intend to give Aramis my best, he thought privately. Always.. He stood for a moment, feeling quite mellow, enjoying the notion of returning home to his lover; pleased hed said no to that last glass of wine. So, although quietly relaxed after the few drinks, he knew he'd have no trouble expressing his pleasure at seeing Aramis during an absence that had lasted several hours: since late afternoon at the garrison. The longest he wanted to be apart from him these days. The corners of his mouth lifted slightly as he pulled the collar of his cape more tightly around him against the touch of cold in the air.  
He'd advanced just a few more steps before he felt the hairs prickle on the back of his neck: the sixth sense developed over years of watching out for dangerous situations kicking in. He became aware of a presence in the alley just to the right of him; of eyes upon him.  
He turned and there she was, stepping out of the shadows. Irony of ironies. His nemesis.  
Milady.  



	4. Chapter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just a note to clarify that in this scenario, the events in this version happen before Rochefort makes his attempted assault on the Queen. He tries to strangle Milady but this is prompted by her mockery of his lack of patience with her to get results over the search for evidence on Aramis and the Queen; accusing him of not being able to fill the Cardinal's shoes.

Chapter 4

Milady. How did she have the knack of appearing just when he was getting some sort of sense of  
peace and order In his life?  
The clouds parted for a moment letting through a little moonlight which fell on her as she stepped  
out of the alley. Impossible, as always, not to be struck by her beauty. Or of the difference in her  
face after six years: the hardness, coldness now etched on her feature. And, as always, he felt his  
guard snapping into place, knowing the treachery and danger she could represent. The remnant of  
the old pull that gripped his guts when she was near, which had lessened the last couple of times  
he'd seen her. Since Marmion. Since Aramis.  
He was pleased to find that newly gained strength holding as she said, "I need to speak with you."  
Probably another attempt to elicit funds for information, like last time, he thought.  
"I offered you help, if you remember. You refused it. I cannot think of anything else we have to  
say to each other." He delivered this statement as coolly as he could, just wanting to be rid of her.  
"You need to listen to what I have to say. If not, you will regret it."  
"Is that a threat?" His expression grew even colder.  
She gave him an ironic smile. " Oh, there is a threat, but not from me. We have a mutual enemy.  
Please, let us go to the tavern and I will tell you of it."  
He sneered. "And what reason do I have to trust you? What reason have I ever had to trust you?"  
"None, possibly," she replied, just as coolly. "But I will tell you this, Olivier, if you do not listen to  
what I have to say, the consequences for everything you hold dear could be disastrous. And I don't  
just mean to the people closest to you, but to the monarchy, to our country itself."  
Her use of his given name, which she hadn’t used in years, jolted him, as did her intense, focused expression. He decided it might be best to hear her out, with caution, then he would better be able to judge if this was some sort of trap. He gave a quick nod of assent and turned back towards the  
inn. A minute or so later they found themselves at the table he'd recently vacated, and he placed a  
glass of wine he'd bought in front of her, having automatically found himself asking for the red she  
used to favour. When she took a sip she obviously realised it and arched an exquisite, amused  
eyebrow at him.  
Joining her at the table, he considered the slightly surreal sense of sitting beside the woman he'd  
once known intimately, who was now more of a stranger than ever.  
"Alright, I'll get to it. A few weeks ago, when I was still with the King, Rochefort found out I'd  
worked for the cardinal. He threatened to expose me to Louis and blackmailed me into performing  
a...task for him."  
Her eyes burned for a moment; Athos knew she would have hated that: being the victim, having  
her own methods used against her.  
"Well, I had no choice. I did it." She almost spat the words out.  
The death of Ambassador Perales--had that been her, Athos wondered, but wasn't about to  
interrupt her flow. The mention of the name Rochefort was enough to give him serious feelings of  
foreboding.

"You know what happened later, after the Marmion episode. He stripped me of all my gifts from the King, humiliated me. I thought myself done with the bastard. Then he approached me again. asking me to do other work for him. I took it up, as much to see if I could find something to use against him if anything."

Athos had the feeling she was as close to speaking the truth as he'd ever heard her.

"Well, I have found out." She paused, drawing in a breath. "He was turned by the Spanish. He's their agent."

The implications of this went over Athos's being like a drenching of ice cold water. Instinct told him this was the truth. Aside from his own feelings on meeting Rochefort again in Spain that there was something corrupt about the man, connections were now clicking in his mind like tumblers falling in lock. How Rochefort had systematically tried to discredit or diminish any good work the Musketeers or Treville had done these past few months. How he had marginalised all other councillors around the King, growing to become his most trusted advisor. They had known of Rochefort's increasing influence on Louis through Constance, who witnessed it almost daily. The thought that he was an agent of Spain and was in such a position of power, was, frankly, terrifying.

Milady let him absorb this news, then her expression grew grimmer still.

"There's more. One of the things he asked me to do was look for evidence that Aramis is the father of the Dauphin.

If the first revelation had chilled Athos, this one caused shock waves to ripple through his soul. His head span for a moment, as a wave of pain and fear crashed though his mind.

Aramis...

The struggle to stop any of this showing on his face was gargantuan.

"Last year the Queen took refuge in a convent when the Cardinal's men were pursuing her. I had it from one of Richlieu's most trusted minions, disaffected with Rochefort. Aramis was part of the protection detail. Nine months before the Dauphin's birth." She gave him a knowing look. "Of course, none of this is news to you as you were also there."

She raised a querying eyebrow at him.

"Facts ," he replied levelly, his face carefully schooled, "can be interpreted in many ways." He wouldn't give her, or anyone else, ammunition on this.

"As I thought," she said with a sardonic smile. "If I had been able to inspire such loyalty in you we might still be married!"

"what have you told Rochefort?" he demanded in a low but commanding tone which she knew of old, His gaze bored into hers.

"Rochefort?" I have told him nothing of this! " she exclaimed, with real hatred In her eyes. "Do you really think I would give that arrogant snake anything that he could use to his advantage--when all I want to do is bring him down?"

"Are you sure about that?" Athos asked. "Some would see him as holding the winning hand at the moment. And you have been known to choose your sides accordingly."

"Not when the man involved is an unhinged despot. The last time I saw him he tried to strangle me, I was lucky to get away with my life. He has already pushed my face down into the dirt." Her eyes glittered with icy determination. "No man does that and gets away with it!"

It sent a chill through Athos, even though for onec he wasn't the subject of her emnity.

"I'm telling you, Athos," she continued with quiet vehemence, "he's insane . He grows more powerful every day and if he isn't stopped he'll threaten the monarchy itself."

"And you want my help to bring him down?"

Yes. I need someone with a vested interest to watch my back. He's too dangerous for me to do this alone," she admitted "He seems obsessed with the Queen. He was her tutor in Spain and I believe he has carried some sort of twisted longing for her all these years. I dread to think what she's capable of and his ability to carry it out. " That was quite an admission from a woman who rarely showe.d any kind of fear but Athos could see the apprehension was genuine. "And whatever Louis' faults," she added, "I should not like to see him brought down. Think what you will of me, but I am still a Frenchwoman."

"I begin to see why Rochefort had you removed from the court.," Athos mused. "He needed to put distance between the King and anyone else who could influence him, until only he was left to manipulate him."

"The maddest are sometimes the most cunning of all," Milady said with a sigh. "So, can I count on your help?"

Though Athos would rather get into a bed of vipers than form an alliance with her, there seemed little choice here. If needs must, it had to be admitted that she had the right sort of skill set required to help in this situation.

"I cannot--I will not," he said determinedly, "permit anything to threaten Aramis, or the Queen. And, by default, the King. So yes, I will do whatever is required to see Rochefort gets what he deserves. If that means we have to help each other, so be it."

Her eyes met hers and a look of understanding passed between them; a little nod of acknowledgement from her.

"Well, I would suggest you start by warning that wayward friend of yours to watch his back. Although you might have been better off telling the would-be priest to have kept his libido under control", she added with a smirk.

Athos required all his control to keep a rein on his temper. He gave her a hard look.

"And I suggest that if you want to form any kind of alliance with me, you treat my friends with a little more respect."

She gave him an appraising look, and a gracious nod of her head, though there was still an irreverent edge to her smile. "My apologies. I forget we are under a flag of truce. And how you all cleave together."

Oh, thought Athos, quivering inside despite his calm exterior, you don't know how I cleave to Aramis, my not-so -dear former wife, and if I can help it, you never will.

"Do you know how Rochefort came to have this idea about Aramis?"

"I don't," Milady admitted. "Only that he came to me asking if I could find any evidence. I told him I could not but I doubt he'll let it rest there. Perhaps the Queen should be made aware that she ought to be careful."

"I will take care of that," Athos assured her, grimacing inwardly, for he knew that would probably mean involving Constance, and the others, of course. The stakes were too high here; he really had no other option. "So, I assume you have some thoughts about how Rochefort might be unseated. And that obviously it is not just necessary to remove him from power but to expose his treachery and totally discredit him."

"Exactly," said Milady. "If it was as simple as sticking a knife between his ribs or a garotte to his throat I could have done it by now, or had it done. I have plenty of suspicions about his dealings with the Spanish, and that Vargas may be his spymaster, but nothing --"

"That could be classed as evidence," Athos finished for her.

"Precisely. I would like to get into the rooms he took over from the Cardinal, for I know there are certain places where Richlieu would conceal things he didn't want anyone else to know of, Going in is risky," she added, "but with two to search for anything incriminating and to keep watch, it would be more easily done. And the sooner the better, for we can't predict what he'll do next."

"I can--at least in terms of knowing where he'll be tomorrow night from seven onwards, There's reception at the palace for the Flemish delegation , and his attendance is mandatory, as he was the main architect of the recent negotiations."

"An opportunity not to be missed, I think." Milady gave an almost catlike smile. "Everyone has their Achilles heel. Let us see if we can find my lord Rochefort's!" She raised her glass to Athos, as though to seal the deal, and he inclined his head towards her, observing the predatory glitter in her eyes. He found himself almost absurdly glad for a moment that he was not in Rochefort's position--for he knew how it felt to be in the sights of this particular huntress.

"I have sentry duty at the palace tomorrow. I will check, discreetly of course, that there are not to be any changes to Rochefort's schedule. Best if we meet about half past the hour of six; time to go over anything else we have learned before we proceed to Rochefort's rooms."

"Are we to rendezvous here?"

"No, at Bonacieux's," he decided, "More discreet . By that time, he thought, the rest of their circle would have been apprised of the situation. "I take it if we find anything it would be better for me to find a way of presenting it to the proper authorities?"

"True," she murmured, then turned those eyes on him again, reminding Athos more than ever of a predatory feline. "It would have more credibility coming from you as one of the King's musketeers. As usual you are one step ahead of the game. And will it be you accompanying me on this mission?"

At times like this Athos was grateful for the implacable facade his noble upbringing helped him draw on.

"I believe I already said, I would do whatever is needed in this matter."

"Well, that is to the good," his companion said smoothly. "If Porthos or d'Artagnan were to accompany me I should spend most of the time watching my back--for a knife in it. Especially the Gascon." She gave a scornful twist of her lips.

"You might find such caution advisable--at all times." He returned the directness of her gaze.

"Do you not have your wolfpack under control?" she mocked.

"We are a group of friends who help each other. But if an individual were to pursue a personalo agenda for justice.."

He shrugged and looked down at his nails. Bluff, of course, but he wouldn't allow that arrogant nonchalance of hers go completely unchallenged

She continued to keep up her confident air, however as she continued, "Hmm. A pity I shall not have the company of the very agreeable Lieutenant Aramis. A treat for my eyes, but perhaps too...distracting. He has too much of a personal stake in this, so his nerve might not be too steady. Where as you..."

She was unchanged , he thought, hating even the sound of his lover's name on her lips. Definitely the look of a predatory feline.

"Will do what is needed," he said smoothly, but with some finality. "It grows late. We had better leave further talk of this until tomorrow."

She inclined her head in a way that would have been gracious but for that air of contemptuousness that characterised most of her dealings with him these days.

"Half after six at Bonacieux's," she murmured, then was gone.

Athos sat for a moment, stock still, as if wanting to let out a breath he'd been holding ever since Milady had appeared. Among all the other thoughts racing around his head--plans to make, priorities to sort--one image seemed to have precedence in his mind's eye.

Aramis's face looking up at him from the pillow this morning, more happy and serene than he'd seen it in months. And he was going home to shatter his lover's peace.

Perhaps that should be the last of Athos's worries at the moment, but an acute pain shot through his soul.

He was about to get to his feet when a familiar figure appeared at the doorway. D'Artagnan, the expression on his face not the happy one he'd left with; the dark eyes shining with concern. Nevertheless, Athos had never been so glad to see a friendly face. They exchanged a quick look and Athos stood and accompanied d'Artagnan outside.

"You saw her?"

"I had a feeling of being watched when we left here so I hung back at the top of the lane, just to see you safely on your way. I saw her approach you. I thought I'd better wait, because when she appears, it always means trouble."

"Oh, you're so right." Athos gave a rueful grimace. "She was the bearer of news."

"Bad?" D'Artagnan 's eyebrows furrowed.

"As bad as it can get. My friend, we are going to need your support in the next few days, more than ever."

"You have it, always, " d'Artagnan assured him instantly. "You know that, Whatever it takes. Tell me what you need."

"Tomorrow we need to meet early, All of us, Then I will tell you everything." D'Artagnan made to say more, but Athos assured him, "it's not that I don't trust you. I do, completely. But the nature of this is such that I need to speak to Aramis first."

The Gascon still looked puzzled and concerned but nodded.

"What can I do?"

"If you can rally Porthos to meet us at seven thirty and possibly get Constance there also, I hate to ask for her assistance but this concerns matters at the palace and I badly need a trustworthy contact there."

"There's nothing she wouldn’t do for you."

"That would be of huge help," Athos said with a grateful smile, giving the younger man's arm a squeeze. "And thank you for staying back."

D'Artagnan told him he would call on Porthos on the way back. They had reached the end of the lane where they'd part again.

"Till tomorrow, then. I don't know if saying sleep well will count for anything," the Gascon said with some chagrin. "But I do know that there's nothing so far that the four of us haven't been able to overcome when we're together."

There was something in the younger musketeer's determination and enthusiasm that was always heartening. And it was with just a little less trepidation that Athos made his way homeward to find Aramis.

@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@


	5. CHAPTER 5

CHAPTER 5

Back at their lodgings Aramis had been pacing the floor for the last half hour, trying to work out how he was going to deliver his news to Athos.

He'd thought his lover would be back before now. After all they had duty tomorrow and he hadn't expected either d'Artagnan or Athos to have been drinking excessively. Most likely they'd just been enjoying each other's company and talking of what undoubtedly were the Gascon's plans to wed Constance. Unless--worst case scenario--Rochefort was trying to make some sort of pre-emptive strike and had decided to remove one or both of his closest allies. Maybe an ambush for Athos and/or d'Artagnan. Hence making any attempt to arrest himself on a charge of treason easier. He shook his head, trying to clear it? Was he being paranoid? The trouble with trying to second-guess a madman was that it could drive you a little insane...

He decided he'd leave it another five minutes and if Athos still wasn't back, he'd make his way towards the tavern where his friends had arranged to meet. However, there was the sound of the key turning in the lock downstairs and footsteps on the stairs. Aramis couldn't help himself ; he sprang to the door and was at the top of the stairs as Athos walked up them.

He could see instantly that Athos's face was not that of a man who'd had a pleasant evening drinking with a friend. His expression was grim and his eyes immediately sought Aramis's,

Aramis knew his own face must show his inner turmoil; he had neither the desire or strength to be able to dissemble. They looked at each other for a moment, each trying to assess the reason for the other's unease.

It was Athos who spoke first. "I've learned something tonight--something that means trouble."

"So have I ." It was both a pain and a relief for Aramis to blurt it out. Aramis found himself shaking like a leaf: some sort of delayed shock, like the tremors he'd had over the massacre of Savoy, or the fall from Marmion's castle, once the adrenaline was spent. And suddenly there was Athos, leaping up two steps at a time, arms going around him, his around Athos, clinging on to the lithe but strong frame like his life depended on it. Just for a moment, to be in the sweetest, safest place in the world: Athos's embrace. Then there were hands on his back, stroking reassuringly; a tender, concerned whisper in his ear.

"Come on, let's go upstairs and sit, talk this over." Then he was being led up the stairs, Athos's hand in his, following as he had always followed: trustingly, instinctively.

They sat in the broader seat where they both fit comfortably; where they'd often kissed and embraced these past few weeks, Once, even made love.

Athos, who could see trepidation and distress In his lover's manner, took the other's hands between his.

"You first?" he suggested. wondering if the revelation Aramis was about to make was anything to do with his own.

Aramis decided to plunge straight in. "I saw Marguerite tonight. I had a note from her today at the palace, asking to meet me and saying she needed my help urgently. I...wanted to tell you, but I wasn't sure what you'd make of my having a clandestine meeting with as former lover. I decided to see what it was about first. The message seemed....anxious; I couldn't just leave it. She told me that Rochefort found out we'd been seeing each other. He threatened to expose it; ruin her chances of a good marriage. Blackmailed her into acting as a spy in the Queen's household. And Rochefort himself," he drew in a deep breath, "is a spy."

Athos's eyes widened slightly , for here, with a sychronicity that was almost fatalistic, was a confirmation of everything he'd heard tonight.

"For the Spanish," he finished Aramis's sentence.

It was Aramis's turn to register surprise.

"I heard the same thing tonight from Milady. She was waiting for me when I left the tavern." He observed his lover's amazement, then dismay at that mention of that name. "Look, why don't you tell me what Marguerite had to say, then I'll tell you what I know."

Arams found he just wanted to get it all out. Athos knew some of it, apparently, so that might help.

"Marguerite thinks Rochefort is a madman, turned during his time in the Spanish jail. Bent on revenge on the King for leaving him there. Also obsessed with the Queen since he was her tutor; she fears what he might be capable of where she's concerned."

"That confirms Milady's opinion : an unhealthy fixation with the Queen. Go on," Athos urged softly.

"Marguerite thinks he has worked steadily to isolate the King, driving--or god knows, maybe even killing--every other adviser his Majesty could trust. We have seen it with my own eyes, have we not?"

"Oh God, yes!" Athos agreed. "We've witnessed how he manages to turn everything--even the Marmion business--to this own advantage and somehow casts everyone else, usually us, in a bad light!"

"That's not the worst, mon couer," Aramis said, his mouth dry, and this time he couldn't keep the anguish he felt out of his eyes. "I think my recklessness may have given him a weapon to destroy us all." This time he couldn't help himself; he lowered his eyes in shame.

"I know. He suspects about you and the Queen."

Aramis's head span. How? Had this come from Milady? Then he felt Athos's hand on his chin, lifting his head so their eyes met again. He wasn't sure what to expect in Athos's gaze. Anger? Reproach? Both would have been justified.

What he saw there was some anxiety, like his own, impossible to disguise. But there was more. Concern, Love.

That nearly undid him. "How--? How could Milady have known that ?" he asked, voice shaking.

The hand on his chin moved up to caress his cheek. "Because he had also used blackmail to get her to work for him, while she was the King's mistress. Later, when she was deposed, he engaged her services again. One of the things he asked was for her to look for evidence that the Dauphin might be your son."

"Oh Gods, it just gets worse!" Aramis exclaimed."What did she say when he asked this of her?"

""Fortunately for us, my former wife seems to have discovered a residual sense of loyalty to her country, Either that, or the hatred she has developed for Rochefort, which, believe me, is great, may work in our favour. She has told him nothing."

"Do you believe that?"

"Milady and trust--not two words that go together easily," Athos admitted with a harsh, ironic grunt. "But what Marguerite's told you seems to have confirm much of what she said. Trust? No. But some co-operation, with great caution, that might be possible."

"So...there was a moment when my fate rested in her hands?" Aramis shook his head. "I said it gets worse--and it does, by every turn." He swallowed hard, then continued, his voice thick with self-recrimination and shame.. "It is just as you warned me. My recklessness, my stupidity, has lead us to this!"

"Aramis, my love, I need you to listen to me.." Athos learned over further and took the other's face between both his hands. His voice was gentle but firm. "Yes, , it was reckless, and now there are consequences. You made a mistake, and perhaps compounded it a little.because you did not distance yourself properly from the situation. But there is a child involved and that made it less easy for you to do that. But it's done. You can't change it. What you can do is move past it, think about the here and now and how you and I--we--with our friends, can resolve this."

"Do you really think there's a way out of this?" Aramis asked. To Athos, those eyes had never looked so darker or more huge when they looked into his with helpless entreaty.

"Now, look at me, I'll be honest--there is great danger here, but it is not hopeless. We have knowledge of this, and knowledge, as they say, is power. There are things we can do--I already have some ideas of how. We are after all, musketeers," he added with the hint of a smile. "And when did we we ever go down without a fight?"

"Never," Aramis agreed, but still that anguish rose in him, made even worse, somehow, by Athos being so completely...Athos.

"I hate it, that I have brought this to your door. When things changed for us, I truly thought that I was bringing you love."

Athos shook his head. "What you have brought me these past few weeks is treasures beyond measure," he said quietly but with great sincerity, "I will not give up on that, or you, as long as there is breath in my body."

He inclined his head and leaned in to kiss Aramis, tongue probing between the other's lips with infinite tenderness, then gathering passion as Aramis's mouth opened to him, tongue meeting his with almost desperate eagerness, Then his hand clamping on the back of Athos's neck, pushing them harder together as their mouths spoke to each other, wordlessly, of love, of need, until there was no breath left in them and they had to part.

"I love you," Aramis whispered, dark eyes glittering, just on the edge of tears. "So much. I don’t want to leave you."

"No-one will be leaving, except Rochefort, if I have anything to do with it, "Athos said, almost with a growl, then his voice gentling as he stroked Aramis's cheek. "I know. I know what it is you feel right now. That you are at the very bottom. That everything is your fault and how can you climb back up again. There were moments last year, when Milady was trying to kill us, when I felt like that. When I was on my own--ye Gods- faking my own death,--when I cursed myself. Because I had failed to deal with my own past, I had brought down danger on al of you, including poor Constance. And I nearly lost faith, But I got through it, with the help of you and the others. For that is our strength. Always has been, always will be, All for one." He could see his words getting through to Aramis, who looked just a little calmer. "Now, that's it, I need you to focus; to be who you are. One of the best--the very best--of the King's Musketeers. You made a mistake. So, learn from it, Don't repeat it. You are not responsible for the appearance of this madman in our lives. But you can help me get rid of him. Will you try? Our King and Queen need you. That child, whether he be yours or not, needs you, and I need you, in every way."

Aramis's eyes were locked with Athos's and he felt as though there was an invisible connection between them, that he was somehow drawing from the bedrock strength of this amazing man he was in love with,

"I can and will do anything for you," he said, somewhat less shakily, *if you have faith in me,"

"Now, that's my Aramis!" Athos said with the hint of a smile, pushing the dark hair back from the other[s forehead. "Now, tell me the rest of what Marguerite had to say."

Collecting himself, Aramis tried to give a full and succint rendering of what the Dauphin's nursemaid had imparted to him. Athos followed with his own accoun t of his meeting with Milady and they found themselves cross-referencing at various points, like putting together a jigsaw.

"He's already attacked one woman in the last few days," Athos said grimly. "God knows how many others he's hurt or killed in his climb to the top of his little mountain of ambition. We need to move on this with utmost speed."

Aramis nodded, "How did you leave things with Milady?"

"I arranged to meet tomorrow night, so we can go together to search Rochefort's offices for evidence."

"God, that's-"

"Risky? Yes, But there's a reception at the palace, remember? Rochefort will be accounted for a couple of hours at least, And Milady knows her way round the Cardinal's old offices well. It's an opportunity we can't afford to miss . I didn't have the luxury of coming home to discuss it first."

Aramis nodded but there was a grim set to his mouth. "Her, of all people--helping us!"

"It doesn't exactly thrill me either, my love," Athos assured him, "But needs must. I also fixed a meeting for us all at Bonacieux's early tomorrow morning. D'Artagnan will see that Porthos, and Constance, if possible, are there."

"D'Artagnan--knows?" Aramis exclaimed, cringing inwardly.

"Not the specifics. That I had to speak to you about first. But he knows there's trouble brewing, He saw Milady lurking outside the tavern; waited for me, I was glad to see him, I can tell you."

"I can imagine. Oh gods!" Aramis groaned. "They'll have to know, won't they? He and Porthos, All of it."

"No choice, my darling. And yes, there will be anger, But you'll just have to bear it."

"I know," Aramis agreed gloomily. "I deserve it, after all. And once again, poor Constance is dragged into danger through our problems!"

"I would also wish it otherwise, but the description "poor" is not one I would apply to Constance. She is a strong lady who makes her own choices,. And," Athos added with a little smile, "will make a very fitting wife for a musketeer."

"Oh--he's going to ask her, isn't he?" It was the first sign of any kind of joy to appear in Aramis since his return home. His smike was wide and genuine. "That's wonderful!"

"I think so, too, He has also asked me, if she accepts, to be his best man."

"I guessed he would. That's perfect. " Then Aramis's face darkened. " I only hope--"

""Now, come. No more of that," Athos said encouragingly. "I hope we will have the pleasure of seeing them walk down the aisle in the not too distant future. We will do everything we can to see that happens, Now...what do you say we try and get some rest? And face tomorrow when it comes."

"Yes, you're right," Aramis admitted, feeling some of the adrenaline produced by anxiety and stress begin to ebb away. "You quite often are, aren't you?" he added with a fond smile as they stood and he leaned into the solid support of Athos's flank as his lover's arm went around his waist. It also felt natural to reach over for a kiss: a brief and gentle meeting of lips and tongues.

"Oh, would that were so, sweetheart!" Athos chuckled wryly as they made their way upstairs. "Then I would have spent less time allowing the past to hold me back, and looked forward instead."

In the bedroom they undressed, pulling off boots and outer wear. Athos went to relieve himself while Aramis ordered their clothing for ease of dressing in the morning, as it would be an early start for them.

As Athos made his way back into the bedroom, he heard Aramis's voice floating out to meet him.

"My Lord, who is all-good and deserving of all my love, please hear my prayer. I ask not to be absolved of my sins, which are many, and which you know, for nothing is hidden from you. I will face your judgement when it is your will for me to do so,"

Athos saw his friend kneeling beside the bed, head bent in prayer before the small cross on the wall above. Fascinated, he held back for a moment, not wanting to interrupt Aramis's flow.

"I ask for your loving mercy, not for myself, but for the others who may come to harm through my misdeeds. For Marguerite, for the King and Queen and the Dauphin. For my brothers, and those they love. Most of all, for my beloved Athos, who has been my pillar of strength here on earth this night, as you and your beloved son, our saviour, are our strength in heaven. I beg that in your infinite wisdom, you give them your loving protection. against the man who is the servant of evil."

There was a pause, as Aramis raised his head from the attitude of benediction to gaze properly upon the cross. The rays of moonlight filtering through the gaps in the drawn curtains fell on his face in profile, his expression focused and sincere. Utterly beautiful.

"My Lord, if my love for Athos is a sin in your eyes, then it must be so. I will accept whatever judgement you choose to give me in the next life, for I know I cannot deny it in this life. It is as much as part of me as my love for you. And I beg you, with all my heart, whatever your will for me, not to let others suffer for my transgressions."

It was Athos's turn to feel tears pricking at the back of his eyelids. And though it was a long time since he'd knelt in any sort of genuine prayer, it felt like the most natural thing in the world to cross the short space to the bed and kneel down next to his friend.

"Lord," he began, looking up to the cross for some sort of focus, "it has been a long time since I spoke to you in any real way. As well you know, for your know all. I cannot speak to you with the kind of eloquence that my beloved friend Aramis can, for he is much more practised and certain in his heart of his connection to you. I can only echo his plea. for you to protect those we care for or have a duty to serve In this matter. As for the love we bear for each other--It may be that I overreach myself to think I can interpret the way you judge it. All I can tell you is what is in my heart, which is open to your all-seeing eyes. I cannot believe, despite what doctrine says, that anything that has the power to heal and make whole like this can be wrong. Also to trust in what in what I was brought up to believe: that you are not just the god of wrath, but of love and mercy. If I am wrong, and this is a sin in your eyes, then I will accept whatever judgement you choose for me n the next life, For this is part of me, and in this life, | cannot give it up. We are mortal and fallible; you are divine. As you can see into our souls, you know I believe every word I have said to you, So I trust in your loving mercy to keep my beloved Aramis safe, for his heart is full of love for you," He found himself coming to an end, and saying "Amen," a little awkwardly.

He felt Aramis's hand slip into his, the grip tightening; looked around to see his lover's gaze on him, tender and amazed.

"Thank you," he whispered, voice choking. "For doing that for me. For meaning it,"

The gravity of the moment started to sink in for Athos. They had spoken of their love before God.

"Well, you know how I see it," he said softly. "That we are architects of our own destinies. But right now, some divine help would be very welcome."

Aramis just nodded, a mutual sense of awed but peaceful silence falling over them as they finished undressing down to their braies. As though the enormity of the moment was still to sink in: a thing to be savoured, absorbed, discussed at a time when other issues didn't cloud their horizons. A declaration of love before God, Athos thought as he climbed into what seemed to have become his side of the bed these past few weeks. A plea for understanding, but also a statement of intent that felt like a ...betrothal.


	6. chapter 6

CHAPTER 6

Aramis slid into the space next to Athos, settling himself until he was positioned comfortably with Athos's arms around him and his head was pillowed against Athos's shoulder. He lay quietly for a moment, just enjoying the reassuring feel of Athos's body against his; the faint musk on his skin.

His soul felt calmer it had done when he came home, thanks to the infusion of Athos's strength, and the chance to commune with God. Also what Athos had said in front of the Lord. That was still sinking into him: those words treasures to be stored away and pored over later. But there were things still on his mind and he knew that if he didn't talk about them, rest wouldn't come easily.

"Suppose nothing is found tomorrow in Rochefort's offices that could incriminate him?" he whispered, "What will we do then?"

"We will try something else," Athos assured him. "There might still be useful pointers. But one way or another , Rochefort is not getting away with this.."

Athos hugged the other harder and Aramis accepted the wordless reassurance, and the implication that there was no point in trying to second guess the situation right now. He sighed and settled down more closely against Athos. There was another pause as he debated with himself whether to to voice the unease he'd felt since the mention of a certain name. But he knew there'd be no peace for him until he could get it out.

"Milady. I hate the idea that this means you need to spend more time alone with her."

"My dear one, the idea does not enamour me either," Athos said firmly. shifting his head slightly so he could look the other in the eye. "But necessity, as they say, makes for strange...alliances."

"'Bedfellows' is the expression," Aramis corrected him. "Have you thought that maybe she might see this as a way in with you? To win your favour, maybe even get back with you?"

"It has occurred to me," Athos admitted, hearing the disquiet in the others voice. "That in the Machi evellian depths of her mind, she might believe this is possible. Even though it will never happen, he was quick to add.

However, this assurance didn't seem to completely dispel the other's unease.

"You once loved her deeply, You've been haunted by her for years."

Athos closed his eyes for a moment. He could see that complete honesty was called for here. Aramis had enough to deal with tomorrow without the distraction of worrying whether he himself might want to tread down old paths, It was a night, after all, for revelations.

"That is true," he admitted, "And physically she is still a desirable woman, One who not long ago snared herself a King. And with her being around so much this past year, there have been times when I felt a kind of...pull, like something the body remembers, even when the rational mind says and knows otherwise. But there is a reason--one very few people outside Pinon know of--why I will never go back with her."

Aramis's dark eyes were fixed intently on Athos,; the expression intense, curious.

"Apart from the fact that I love you more than my own life and have just said so in front of God, who I do not think would take too kindly to my doing an about-face with my treacherous, murderous former wife."

He paused, taking a moment to lean across to kiss Aramis, receving an equally tender and fiery response to the proling of his tongue and caressing lips.

"No...that would not make a very good impression," Aramis commented, having placed a tiny kiss on the little quirk in Athos's upper lip. "But there's more?"

"Yes. " Athos closed his eyes for a moment, gathering strength to go back to one of the most painful periods of his life. ""Now, you remember how I told you Anne and I lost a child, almost halfway through her term?"

"Of course. I felt such sorrow for you," Aramis said softly. "Even for her."

"Don’t waste your compassion on her," Athos said wryly. "There's more I didn't tell you, the night after Marmion. You had enough demons of your own to deal with, After Thomas died, and I believed Anne hanged, there were those in the village who let it be known to me that Anne had been seen visiting a local woman days before she lost our son. The kind of woman who gives advice about childbirth. Helping with a successful confinement--or sometimes, the opposite." His voice sounded hollow in his own ears.

"Aramis's eyes widened in horror. Although abortion was illegal in the eyes of God and man, they both knew it still happened.

"Well, the village women had never liked Anne; I think some of them suspected she was not all she seemed. But of course no-one said anything in front of me; in love with her as I was, I was unlikely to believe it. And none of them wanted to compound my grief over the loss of the baby. But when she was revealed for what she was, I think they believed it might be better if I knew, That it might give me some sort of affirmation to my decision to seek justice for my brother."

"Did you get to the truth of it?" Aramis asked him, looking aghast.

"I went to see the woman myself. An old witch! Of course she denied it, said Anne only came to her for advice as she had fears about carrying to a full term. Well, the woman was not likely to admit to something that is considered a crime by church and state. But there was shiftiness about her and I..just had a feeling in my gut. And once the doubt was there..."

He closed his eyes, crushed by a moment by the weight of memory.

When he opened them it was to see a fury on Aramis's face the kind of which he had rarely witnessed before.

The bitch!" Aramis hissed, "If she did that to your child, may she burn in hell!" The hand that had reached out to cup Athos's cheek was shaking profoundly. "On top of everything else you'd learned about her, " he whispered in comprehension, "that must have finished you."

"It completely ended my ability to keep living on the estate. I couldn't stay with reminder of my former life at every turn. And you know how it went after that. How I abandoned everything and joined the army. But of course, I've wondered....why? Other than the obvious, that she might have been having an affair with Thomas before she was discovered and that the child was his. But I might never have known if it was my brother's child or mine. Either way, he would have been brought up as the heir to the estate." He shook his head, unable to comprehend it, even after all these years. "It's understandable, even forgivable in some poor girl who's been raped. In those who fear that a child could inherit some defect or simpy another mouth they can't afford to feed. But this baby would have lacked for nothing. She didn't even have to have much to do with his day to day care if she didn't suit her; the nursemaid would have seen to that. But he would have been so...loved!" The pain of lost opportunity could still reach out to hurt him after all this time.

"Maybe there you have it," Aramis commented, his perspective offering greater objectivity. "Perhaps she thought you would love the child more than you loved her. Controlling bitch that she is, maybe she thought she would lose her hold over you."

"Perhaps," Athos said after a moment of reflection. "I never thought of it in that light before. he let out a long, ragged sigh, "Anyway, maybe now you can see why I could never, ever return to her. What's the saying? 'You cannot step into the same river twice.'"

"Heraclltus." Aramis recognised the classical quote. "'For other waters flow into it continuously.'" His brows furrowed, and he murmured vehemently. "And by God, are those waters polluted!"

"Precisely. So now maybe you see, my darling, why though I might have to work with her tomorrow, I will never climb into a bed with her again."

Aramis nodded, but Athos could feel his lover's body trembling with anger and pain on his behalf.

"Now, I need you to promise me that tomorrow, if you are in her presence, you must not betray anything of what you know of this. Or of how thing are between us, I intend to be very careful on that score. She must not be given anything she could exploit, now or in the future. We just need her co-operation until this danger is past."

"I swear," Aramis promised him solemnly. "Tomorrow will be difficult enough. I will have my guard up with her. Believe me, where Milaty is concerned, I have eyes in the back and the front of my head! head!"

"Best way to be with her. I don't know how her immediate future will play out after this; impossible to tell at present. I have already tried to persuade her to make a life outside of Paris. But if the chance arises, I will suggest a fresh start in another country might be best for her."

"Certainly best for us!" Aramis said with an ironic smile. "A border between us sounds good. Or a sea, Or even an ocean!" His face grew serious again, "I'm sorry, that you had to bring all that out again."

No," Athos assured his lover softly, pulling the other slightly on top of him, properly into his arms, "I'm learning, Sometimes it's best these things are brought into the light. It's all right.." He tugged Aramis a little more firmly into his embrace, the gleam in his eyes, earnest, tender, with just the hint of a smile. "I have you now. You're my archangel Raphael, My healer."

Aramis looked slightly shocked. "You should not presume so, For what fallible mortal can be compared to the Lord's immortal host?"

"You're right." Athos gave a little smile, knowing he'd perhaps overstepped the mark slightly with his lover's religious sensibilities. "What I mean is you have qualities which remind me of him. How you give comfort, take away pain,. And I don't just mean with that medical kit of yours. " He laid a kiss, like a benediction, on Aramis's forehead, following it with a soft smile that reached his eyes; a real smile of the kind that Aramis hadn't seen enough of in the years he'd known his friend. "To my heart."

Ah, what I wouldn't do to see more of that smile, Aramis thought, as once again it did strange things to his insides.

"Well, we both know that I am not angelic," he commented with a wry twist of his lips. "But if I can help take away any pain you feel, I am very glad of it."

"More and more, every day," Athos assured him.

Aramis stretched languidly , enjoying the feel of Athos's lithe torso against his.

"Let me tell you of whose qualities you have put me in mind of, almost from the first. Of Michael, who stands before me, ready to defend me with his fiery s.word."

It was the nobleman's turn to look shocked, and it was more than Aramis could resist not to counter that open-mouthed surprise with a kiss, his tongue curling softly round the other's.

"That might possibly be one of the most flattering things anyone has ever said to me," Athos commented once his mouth was released. "But clearly not true, since I am vey much of this earth."

"You never give yourself enough credit," Aramis said smilingly. "And you do have a sword!"

"But only of steel, not of fire!"

"Might as well be, the way you wield it!" Aramis surveyed his lover's face teasingly, then he then he took one of Athos's hands and lifted it to his lips, kissing the palm. "You've given me strength tonight. The archangel himself couldn't have done more."

"Angels, I think, have rather more selfless motives when they give aid," Athos said, with a loving look. "Mine are to keep you safe and happy--for when you are, I am complete."

The air between them was charged with awareness of future risk and danger--also of the here and now. The world narrowed down to the two of them in this bed, Of bodies pressed together, skin on skin. Of hearts thudding like they were ready to burst through their chests. Of the need to comfort, console, reaffirm the feelings spoken of before God.

Their mouths sought each again , arms tightening around bodies that needed to commune without words. Hands moving over each other's backs, fingertips caressing, groins rubbing, gently building friction. Athos's mouth moved from Aramis's, making a trail of featherlight kisses, to the cleft of his chin, his neck, coming at last to the hollow of his throat, which he nuzzled with worshipful reverence. Aramis's head fell back, exposing the long line of his throat, craving more of the touch that transmitted wonderfully soft pulses of desire through to his groin.

He let out a sweet little groan that worked its own magic on Athos's awakening erection and they both felt the little jolt aa their pelvises ground together.

Lifting his head for a moment, Athos was caught by the almost beatific expression on Aramis's face: the other's head thrown back, long lashes fanning down.

Not an angel, Athos thought, smiling inwardly as he continued downwards with his trail of kisses . But can look like one! His lips moved over Aramis's collar bone, his chest, detouring to allow his tongue to flick over an erect nipple. He resumed his journey over firm stomach muscles, coming to rest in his lover's belly button, which his tongue licked and circled, Aramis's body squirmed with delight, and his penis searched upwards.

However, the desire to give as well as receive pleasure was also strong in him; it wasn't long before knowing fingers were reaching for the fastening of to Athos's drawers, undoing it and reaching inside to stoke the other's cock with a velvety caress. It was the nobleman's turn to gasp as his pelvis lifted towards the desired touch. His hand had now snaked down to Aramis's braies, unfastening the fastening and pushing them down over sweetly curving buttocks, fingers tantalising refraining from fondling the erection that sprang free and hard when released from its confines; instead travelling down the cleft of Aramis's arse to his anal ring, circling it. This made a rather guttural cry spring from Aramis's lips and his aching cock hardened all the faster.

They reached for each other, distracting underwear pushed down and kicked away, repositioning themselves so they could lock into a close embrace again, Hungry mouths sought each, tonges probing, kisses growing harder and deeper. Bodies surged together with a synchronicity that spoke of years of loving, not just weeks.

"Want you.." Aramis murmured between fevered kisses. "Want you so bad.." Conflicting emotions were roiling within him, along with the burgeoning desire. Gripped by anguish over the danger he'd brought down on them, and by a need to surrender himself completely to Athos, as though in giving proof of love he could convince Athos of his sorrow at the error that had brought them to this. He pulled away and onto his back, bringing up his knees and parting his legs. "I want you in me. Hard in me." The darkly burning eyes pleaded with Athos.

Athos knelt up, gazing down at his lover's fevered expression.7

"Hard in me," Aramis begged again. Athos sensed that this was about more than the usual desire; it was about guilt and pain. Normally he was glad to comply with his lover's expressed wishes. But whatever Aramis wanted right now, maybe it wasn't what he needed.

"No sweetheart, not tonight. Not like that.." In spite of the lust surging through his body Athos leant down and kissed Aramis as tenderly as he could. "I want to make love with you, not punish you. You've done enough of that to yourself."

The dark eyes widened slightly. "Mi amor..." Aramis murmured, "I'm yours. I'll do anything you want..."

In his vulnerability, he looked all the more beautiful to Athos, who lowered his head to kiss the side of his lover's neck, then nip at his earlobe, "Come down on me?" he whispered.

Aramis turned his head so he could kiss Athos again. Eyes shining with a sensual haze, he reiterated, "Whatever you wish."

Athos made to move quickly to reach for the lotion they kept in the bedside cabinet, scooping some of it into one palm. Kneeling over Aramis again, he lifted the other's hand to his lips, placing a kiss on his fingers, then transferred some of the lotion onto Aramis's palm.

Then it was Aramis's turn to pay attention to his partner's needs, his eyes never leaving Athos's as his fingers stroked the other's phallus, coaxing it into even more rampant hardness as he coated it with lube. He savoured the rapt look on Athos's face, the gasp of appreciation escaping from his lips.

Athos spread more of the other on his other hand, easing one finger, then another, into his lover's anal channel. Aramis moaned with pleasure as he pushed his pelvis against the invading digits.

"You're mine..." Athos said, voice thickening, rich and deep with desire. Then he moved away to lie on his back, drawing his knees up and parting his legs.

Aramis moved to kneel above him and positioned his crack over the head of the other's fully erect column. The position was one they hadn’t tried before and it was with a mixture of nervousness and eagerness that he eased himself down until he'd taken the tip of Athos's cock into him. he gasped as the head flared inside his channel, relishing the look on Athos's face as warm, welcoming flesh closed around his hard, pulsing phallus. Then he pushed down until Athos was fully sheathed inside him.

They paused for a moment, both breathing hard, their gazes locked as tightly as their bodies. Athos enjoyed the dawning realisation on Aramis's face that this positon afforded him quite a bit of control in their coupling.

"You're mine," Athos's voice was a lascivious velvet growl as he put his hands on the other's hips, hauling him nearer so their bodies were as close as they could possibly be. Then he rotated his own pelvis slightly. "And I'm yours, One and the same..."

Aramis groaned with pleasure, his gaze devouring the sight of Athos beneath him as though he was looking down on a banquet almost too wonderful to consume.

Wordless understanding passed between them and they began to move, giving in to the imperative to celebrate the love so newly found yet that had been a part of them forever. Wrapped up in heat and desire as Athos's pelvis arched upwards, and Aramis pressed down, then up again , letting Athos's hot erection slide sweetly in and out of his eager and accepting flesh with increasingly frenzied friction. The rhythm built, faster and higher as their bodies surged together in the mutual need to give pleasure, express love and trust.

Aramis craved the feel of Athos's mouth on his again, He leaned forward, doing his best t o keep the other's phallus inside him, not to break their rocking rhythm. Their lips joined, opening to each other with tender ferocity. Athos's tongue probed Aramis's mouth: as welcome an invader as the cock sliding in and out of him. The analogy of the double penetration in Aramis's mind took already enflamed senses almost to overload and he felt himself starting to peak.

Athos's mouth lifted from Aramis's for a moment. Teeth nipped at Aramis's lower lip. The low erotic growl of "Love you..." pushed Aramis over the edge, waves of sweet climax began to build like the surge of a spring tide in hi s own pulsing groin.

He moaned in ecstasy , feeling the other's body trembling against him and struggled to hold back jut one more moment; one last rotation of his pelvis as he bore down on Athos, wanting to bring the other with him,

Athos gripped Aramis's hips, desperate to stay inside his lover as his hips bucked In a fierce upward thrust. He came, a gloriously shuddering climax, spirit soaring as his seed gushed into the hot, tight channel, only seconds later to have Aramis's cock splash its offering over his groin and belly. He pressed upwards again, eager to answer the plea in his lover's eyes that he should stay inside him for every remaining second before his phallus began to soften, They stayed poised like that for a moment, savouring the deep harmony between their joined bodies., acknowledged it with soft smiles in their equally locked gazes, until the pull of post-coital languor made it impossible to continue.

Athos rolled them onto their sides so they could reluctantly uncouple, falling into an embrace of tangled, tired torsos and limbs. Contentment radiated from Aramis's being ; he felt the most centred that he'd been since receiving Marguerite's alarming news earlier tonight.

"You always know what I need. How do you manage that?" he asked, settling against Athos's shoulder, kissing the side of the other's neck with tender reverence.

"Something to do with loving you, perhaps?" Athos said with a lightness that belied the mixed feeling of honour and trepidation prompted by the implicit trust his lover placed in him. He could only hope that he would always find the fortitude prove worthy of it. "And because you always give me what I need." He pulled Aramis into a tighter embrace, glad that he'd helped in some degree in restoring the other's confidence. Tomorrow , as usual, they would try their utmost, with every last drop of blood, to make things right.

He thought "I'd kill Rochefort myself and be damned for it, before I let him hurt you." But he kept the notion to himself; no point in disturbing his lover's freshly and hard- won balance.

They pulled apart reluctantly, Aramis reaching for a cloth to help them clean themselves up. That done, they settled back into bed and pulled the sheets over them, gravitating into another embrace, emotional and physical lethargy settling over them.

"Best try and sleep, hmm?" Aramis whispered as he found a comfortable position resting against Athos, enjoying the warmth of skin against skin, the faint scent of the other's musk, and of the arms round him. All the things that made resting together after loving so sweet. "Tomorrow is going to be a long, hard day."

"But we will get through it," Athos said, stroking the other's back, tightening his hold a little as he settled into a slightly more comfortable position. He looked across at Aramis.

"I'm as ready as I'll ever be."

"Good. Because d'Artagnan reminded me of something before we parted." Athos looked deeply into those beautiful eyes. "There is nothing the four of us have not yet been able to overcome, when we act together. And Rochefort," he added with his quiet characteristic determination, "despite the resources he has to hand, is friendless. We are not, and that is his weakness, and our strength."

Heartened, Aramis nodded, inclined his head so they could share a last, light and tender kiss before nestling down together and closing their eyes. And despite the thoughts whirling round in both their minds, sleep won out, spreading its comforting mantle over them both.

@@@ @@@ @@@ @@@ @@@


	7. Chapter 7

In the morning they were up early and quickly got on with the business of getting ready. They kept loverly contact to a minimum as they dressed and ate a light breakfast , trying to get into the right mindset for the day ahead. As they strapped on their pauldrons and swords it was a putting on of armour, both internal and external. The King's musketeers: focused, mission-ready.

As they stood in front of the door, Athos regarded his lover. Aramis looked a little paler than Athos would have liked and his expression was slightly pensive. 

"Ready?" He brushed a little fleck of dust that had settled on the other's collar. 

"For...whatever," Aramis said with a wry twist of his lips.. "To Bonacieux's first?" 

Athos nodded and he saw by the droop in Aramis's shoulders that this was the part of the day he dreaded most: facing their friends' disappointment and anger over his liaison with the Queen. Still, he pulled himself up straight and Athos was proud of his resilience and courage. He reached over, one hand caressing the other's cheek. 

"We can do this. We will do this," he assured his friend with the quiet tone whose authority had sustained Aramis through many a battle and crisis. "Together." 

They leaned their heads together, lips and tongues meeting briefly, a small affirmation of love and trust, then made for the door, ready to face whatever the day would bring. 

The morning was sunny and mild and the day promised to be a dry, bright one as they approached the Bonaciuex household. Strange to think that it might soon be the d'Artagnan household, Athos thought as he pushed his way through the outer door just ahead of Aramis. It was the Gascon himself who greeted them with a serious expression but a welcoming smile and clap on the shoulder for each of them. 

"Porthos?" Aramis asked. 

"Here soon I hope," the younger man answered. "I called in on him on the way home last night. And I managed to send a message to Constance, who should have got it at first light and hopefully will be able to get away. Have you any breakfast?" 

As they were assuring him they had had time to eat, they heard a coded knock on the door then the familiar figure of Porthos entered. The darker man cast his eyes over his friends. 

"You," he said with a pointed look at Aramis, "are not the happy soul I left at the garrison last night. You," he turned towards Athos and added in his usual direct manner, " have that give nothing away look that never means anything good. And I gather Milady's involved. So--what's up?" 

"And good morning to you too, Porthos," Athos said with the slightest hint of ironic smile in his voice. "Sadly, you're right. There's trouble, and I think you'd both better sit down We have news to impart. " 

They gathered round the table as they'd done so many times, in laughter and companionship, and sometimes. as now, in crisis. 

"We have had word that Rochefort is an agent of Spain." 

Both their friends looked shocked and concerned. D'Artagnan's eyebrow furrowed. 

"Is this from Milady? Not that it’s so hard to believe; it would explain a lot of things. But we know her of old. Could she be playing some game of her own?" 

Aramis shook his head, "No, it's confirmed from another source. Lady Marguerite." 

Both Porthos and d'Artagnan turned to look at him. 

"The Dauphin's nursemaid. Why would she know such a thing about Rochefort?". 

"Because I was seeing her until recently," Aramis explained, with a little look across at Athos. "Rochefort found out and blackmailed her by threatening to ruin her reputation and marriage prospects. He has forced her, among other things, into spying on the Queen." 

"So she was your piece at the palace!" Porthos said with a raised eyebrow. 

"Constance has mentioned of late that she seemed tense, quiet; has felt worried about her." the Gascon added. "She offered a listening ear but was told it was just the responsibility for caring for the Dauphin, wearing a little heavily." 

They were looked for more details from Aramis, who glanced over at his lover. Athos's expression stayed calm but he gave a small encouraging inclination of his head. 

"There's more. Rochefort has suspicions about something I did, which could be very damaging. Last year when we were at the convent, I...slept with the Queen." 

There it was, out in the light of day. Spoken out loud the truth didn't sound any more palatable, But at least, Aramis thought, whatever his friends' judgement, he no longer had to conceal such a massive secret from the two other people closest to him. 

The faces of both men registered shock and incredulity. 

"What?" Porthos roared. "Tell me you didn't say what I think you just said, because how could anyone with your brains who anything so fucking stupid!" The musketeer's face darkened with anger. 

"I slept with the Queen," Aramis said quietly. It didn’t sound any better second time around 

"Oh my God, Aramis!" D'Artagnan let out a sort of strangled moan. "That's bloody treason! Could be the death of you!" 

"Not just you!" Porthos thundered, banging his fist on the table. "God, 'Mis, I knew it! That one day that wandering dick of yours would get you into so much trouble you couldn't get out of it!" 

D'Artagnan was still shaking his head with disbelief. "Aramis, I thought you had a brain. This is just mad! Reckless!" 

"Oh, reckless is nothing new with him," Porthos railed, "Believe me! But this is ...crazy!" He leapt out of his seat and rounded on Aramis. "'Mis, what have you done?" he groaned in exasperation. "Well, go on!" he demanded. "Tell us!" 

Aramis felt himself quailing under his friend's censuring gazes. The fact that he'd expected it, deserved it, wasn't helping. 

"Look, I didn't plan it! Earlier that day, I met the first girl I ever fell in love with. We were both very young, She fell pregnant and lost the child. Her father took her away. I’d always believed he'd forced her to take the veil. And she was there at the convent. Isabelle. It turned out that the veil had been her own choice, Then she died, helping us during the first attack." His voice cracked; the memories still hurt. "Later, when I was guarding the Queen on my own, we got talking, I found myself telling her about Isabelle, She was kind, sympathetic. Also shared confidences with me about her own life, the restrictions imposed by her royal role, And it just...happened between us. I know it was wrong. but it's done and I can't undo it." He came to a halt, lowering his gaze to the table. 

Observing, not interfering, Athos felt a stab of sympathy for his lover. But he also understood his friend's anger and exasperation; had felt it himself but with a more personal twist. But he knew it would be better for them to let it out, and for Aramis to learn from it.  
"But. God, 'Mis--" Porthos shook his head, his tone still angry and disbelieving. "And Rochefort somehow knows or suspects this.?" 

Aramis nodded dumbly. Athos joined the discussion. "We have it from two sources: Milady and Margeurite. Rochefort, it appears, makes a habit of blackmailing women--although in Milady's case innocent victim doesn't exactly fit the bill. " He gave an ironic grimace. "Briefly, when she was with the King, he used his knowledge of her former role with the Cardinal to force her to do clandestine work for him. Recently, he has tasked her to find evidence of what Aramis has just described." 

Aramis raised his eyes to look into those of his lover. There was an slight inclination of Athos's head: a prompt that this was Aramis's responsibility and his story to tell. 

"There's more to what Rochefort suspects. " 

"More?" d'Artagnan murmured. "What could be worse than this?" The Gascon had always been a quick study, Athos thought, seeing the younger man's mind going into overdrive. "No, please don't tell me that means what I think it means." He looked into Aramis's eyes with a kind of pleading intensity. 

"The Dauphin may be my son," Aramis answered, trying to meet his friends' horrified gazes as levelly as he could. Porthos's eyes grew darker still, blazing with anger. 

"Fucking hell, 'Mis! Do you never think of --consequences? Of what you've brought down on yourself--on us!" He leapt out of his seat, crossed the short distance to Aramis and grabbed the sides of his friend's collar, hauling him to his feet. "Oh, reckless is nothing new for him. Believe me! He threw a quick glance at d'Artagnan then directed the full force of his angry gaze back to Aramis. "But this is...beyond anything!" 

Such was the level of black fury in Porthos's countenance that Aramis flinched back for a moment, certain the other might strike him. He was shivering, not sure whether it was from the forcible shaking Porthos had given him ,or the from the sheer raw power of his friend's ire, which was like a force of nature and which had only rarely ever been directed towards him. After a moment he found some courage and met Porthos's eyes properly and squared his jaw. If Porthos was going to hit him, so be it. He knew it was not undeserved. The moment, poised on a knife edge, seemed to last forever. As Porthos's hand was raising, a quiet but authoritative voice came from the sidelines. 

"Porthos. Allow Aramis a chance to explain himself." The tone, and the look that backed it up, was one, if not quite an order, then that of a very strong suggestion. And it was almost ingrained in them not to ignore the suggestions of Athos. Not when he fixed you with that level, implacable look. 

After a moment, Porthos took a deep breath, released Aramis's collar and stepped back, regarding the other with a cant of his eyebrow. 

"I know I have been stupid and reckless, and now there are repercussions. I can't change what I've done. The best I can do now is forestall the threat from Rochefort. " 

"That's the important thing to consider here," Athos said, drawing everyone's attention back to him. "And I have a plan in place which might achieve that objective, which, once you are all finished shouting at Aramis, I will tell you more of." 

"Why do I have the feeling this involves Milady?" d'Artagnan almost groaned. 

They all continued to look at Athos, who nodded. "Oh, better and better!" Porthos threw back his head. "Can it get any better?" 

"I like it no more than you," Athos assured him. "But when the devil drives..." 

D'Artagnan, in the meantime, was giving the shamefaced Aramis a considering look. "Aramis, what you did was reckless, there's no denying it, but it seems to me that there were two parties involved here. And while you might have been carried away by the moment, the other party might have seen an opportunity." 

"Good point," said Porthos, with an approving look at the Gascon. "The Queen needed an heir, as we well know. Was desperate for an heir." 

"But--" Aramis started to protest. 

"You had just told her you were fertile! Bloody hell, man, stop thinking with your dick and start using your brains!" Porthos said bluntly. 

D'Artagnan said a little more gently, "I have great respect for the Queen. Constance loves her and the Queen's been very good to her. But I'm just saying--first and foremost, she is a queen, who was under pressure. And who might have seized an opportunity. 

"And a queen's primary duty," Athos interjected quietly, "is to produce an heir." 

They all looked back at Aramis, who flushed slightly. Athos found himself glad of the others' observations. It might help Aramis get a clearer perspective on the situation, as his own was obviously coloured by his personal involvement. 

"Well, an heir's been produced, whoever fathered him!" d'Artagnan observed dryly. 

"But she told me he was mine!" The words burst out of Aramis: a pained protest. 

"Ye gods!" yelled Porthos, still pacing. "How can you, with the amount of tomcatting you've done, be so naïve about women? Of course the Queen slept with the King, first chance she got. Get real, for god's sake!" He ground out the words. "There's a fifty-fifty chance the child's yours--that's all!" 

D'Artagnan waded in with a slightly cooler but still relentless tone. "Porthos is right, my friend. The Queen, admirable woman thought she is in many ways, is not some goddess in an ivory tower. Oh, I'm not denying she may have been drawn to you. But first and foremost, she's a foreign princess alone in an unsafe land, who would seek to keep hold of one of the few allies she can really trust. So she gives you her version of the truth. As to how far you can trust that..." He spread his hands. 

Aramis closed his eyes; he looked pallid, battered by the onslaught of perceived truths being volleyed at him by his friends. Athos's heart twisted within him in empathy for his lover's pain, but he knew the process was necessary because the catholic part of Aramis's soul needed, even demanded it. Confession, penance, and hopefully at the end of it, some catharsis. 

"Whether he's your seed or Louis's, he can never be yours," Porthos said harshly. "Not in any real sense. He's the heir to the throne. So you'd do better to give up on that idea, right now!" He was pacing the room like a caged tiger, the swish of his cape as he walked up and down the only other sound in the room. 

"Still, you believed him to be yours," d'Artagnan said, rather more gently. "Is that why you got close to Marguerite?" 

"An opportunity presented itself. I took it," Aramis admitted, voice so quiet he could barely be heard. "I liked her--truly--or i would not have slept with her. But yes, it was a chance when the Dauphin was in her room, to sometimes look on him, watch him, even once, to hold him." 

"Like," Porthos ground his words out, "is not a good enough reason for taking such a stupid gamble with his safety--and everyone else's. All I have heard out of your mouth today are tales of your woes with women! From the very first you bedded, to this last one, it seems that all they've ever brought you, or you them, is trouble. Nothing real, nothing lasting. Because you've always been looking in the wrong place. You idiot!" He gave an exasperated shake of his head. Then he looked over at Athos, exclaiming pointedly, "If you had made your move a year ago, all of this would never have happened!" 

It was Athos's turn to start back slightly. The truth of the words hit him in the stomach. If they had been in a committed relationship before the events that led to Aramis being alone and vulnerable with the Queen that day, the past might not have unfolded as it did. if he had been able to throw Anne's hold off him earlier... He was about to try and formulate some sort of answer when Aramis' voice cut in. 

"Porthos, Athos is not to blame for any of this, so don't direct your anger at him. This is entirely down to me. And I'm sorry for it, more than I can tell you, for what I've brought to our door." They all looked across at him, drawn by the regretful, calmly sombre look on his face. "Everything you've said about me is true. I have been reckless and stupid. But I promise you this." His eyes sought Athos's, and his alone. "I know where I belong now. Without any doubt. It's a place I've very privileged to be in, and where I will stay, as long as I'm wanted. I swear it." There was something about the open, sincere look on his face, that convinced every man in the room that this was a baring of the soul. Complete truth. 

The way he is when he prays, Athos thought, from some distance place in his mind, remembering last night: words said before God. He felt his throat thickening; couldn't tear his gaze away from the naked love showing in Aramis's eyes, until Porthos's voice, at his side, made him turn to look at his other friend. 

"Finally. The most sensible words to come out of you mouth today. Or, possibly, ever." The bigger man's emotions had filled the room, making the air itself charged and heated, like the build-up to a thunderstorm, For the first time there was a sense of cooling, of tensions ebbing a little. "Do you think I've been watching your back, saving your neck all these years , just to see you...wasting yourself?" There was still a rueful gruff note in Porthos's voice but it was just a little gentler. "And quite bloody right," he added with a glance over at Athos, "'cause, God know, he deserves the best, and if you let him down, you'll have me to answer to." 

Athos, although not a man given to needless words, found himself gazing at Porthos in mute amazement at his friend's display of loyalty. He reached out a hand to clap on Porthos's shoulder, then Porthos's hand pressed over his, before the other man gave him a warm look and turned aside briefly to collect himself. 

"Well said, Porthos." The Gascon's voice came from the other side of the table. "I echo that." 

Aramis's gaze flew to his younger friend, then to Porthos, who had turned around again, looking somewhat more composed. 

"If I were to do such a thing," he continued in that same calm, certain manner, "then I would deserve your most severe judgement." 

Whatever his eyes were saying to Porthos, they seemed to have convinced his friend of his sincerity. There was a small inclination of the bigger man's head; a visible attempt to ease down his tension and anger by flexing and unflexing his shoulders. They all waited quietly for the musketeer with a temper as big as his courage, strength and spirit to find a little more calm and sit down at the table again, opposite Aramis. 

"So," he said, easing back in his chair, "what are we going to do about this?" 

The look Aramis threw him spoke clearly of his uncertainty at deserving this loyalty. 

Porthos looked over at him. "Thought you'd stopped thinking like an idiot! Yes, of course--we!" A shake of his head, then a reaching across the table, grasping Aramis's hand, voice still gruff but other things, deep and indestructible, also coming through in it. "Obviously! Always!" he looked across at d'Artagnan, who put his hand over the others' without a second's hesitation. 

"Always!" he echoed. 

Athos found himself letting out a breath he didn't even realise he'd been holding. Climbed out of his chair, moving round the table, putting a hand on Porthos and d'Artagnan's shoulders. Completing the circle. "Those, my friends", he said with his own quiet sincerity, including Aramis in his gaze, "are words we're very glad to hear. Now we can work out how to take down this mad traitor." They all nodded assent, looking towards Athos, who resumed his seat. "I'll just say one more thing. None of us has yet found themselves in a position of being a father, so I think we shouldn't presume how we'd feel, or what we'd do, if the possibility arose." 

The look he gave Aramis was one of infinite gentleness; the look he got in return was one of extreme gratitude. The others nodded soberly. Athos got on with the business of bringing them up to speed with what they'd learned from their two sources, Aramis filling in details when needed. 

"God, I almost wish we had the Cardinal back!" d'Artagnan exclaimed at the end of it. "Ruthless and clever as an enemy but at least not mad!" 

At this point there was another coded knock on the door and Constance entered. D'Artagnan rose immediately to greet her and they shared a brief kiss. 

"Hello, my love," she said then addressed the others, "Sorry I'm late, I got away as soon as I could." D'Artagnan let her have his empty seat, and stood behind her, 

"Thank you for coming, Constance," Athos said sincerely.  
Constance looked round at the worried, sober expressions of the men in front of her. "Is this about Rochefort?" she said with a directness that shocked them all a little. 

"Indeed it is," Athos said, and gave her a brief summary of what Marguerite and Milady had told them about the First Minister. 

"Ah, I knew it. Knew it in my bones, somehow," Constance murmured. "For weeks I have feared something dreadful. The way he stalks around the court, as though he's the King himself! The way he looks at my mistress when he thinks no--one else sees him. It makes me fear for her. Evil! Evil and dangerous!" she said forcefully. 

"Constance, there's more," Aramis said, readying himself for the disapproval and anger of another person whose esteem he valued. 

"Aramis, does Rochefort know?" Constance said softly . "About you and the Queen?" The look she gave him was penetrating but also concerned. 

"You knew?" it was d'Artagnan who voiced the surprise of the group, which registered on every man's face. 

"I've known since the Emilie affair," Constance said calmly, meeting d'Artagnan's slightly challenging look. "The Queen's secrets are hers to keep. They are not mine to give away, unless for very good reason." Her gaze swept over the group. "And I think this is it. What can I do to help?" 

What a woman, thought Athos; could see the notion reflected in the faces of Aramis and Porthos, the proud smile from d'Artagnan. Discreet, loyal, brave. No musketeer could ask for a better wife. 

"We are grateful for any help you can give, Constance," Athos said sincerely. "Firstly, do you know of anything Rochefort could use against the Queen, other than these speculations about the Dauphin?" 

"Yes, there is." Constance's eyes darkened with worry. "When the King was in the hands of the slavesr, Rochefort played on the Queen's fears about possibly being left as Regent, alone in a hostile country. He manipulated her into writing a letter to her brother asking for armed help, if needed. I witnessed it myself. He will have it still. It could be made to look very bad for the Queen, if it came out. " 

"Good. Thank you," Athos replied, "I know at least on thing I must look for when Milady and I break into Rochefort's offices tonight, while he is at the reception." 

"Athos, that's so risky--particularly with that bitch!" The vengeance of Constance's manner didn't really surprise any of them. She had good reason to hate and distrust Milady. 

"At this point, we don't have much choice," Athos told her. "We need to search for that letter and any other documents that might incriminate him. I will be careful," he assured her, touched by the personal concern in her eyes. "Now--could you speak to the Queen? Warn her of Rochefort's status and that she should be careful around him, particularly today, for we want to give no hint that anything is other than normal. See if she can arrange to be occupied: with the King, with visitors, or anything that can stop Rochefort claiming a private audience with her. Perhaps she could try and leave the reception a little early; feign a headache or some such thing. Anything that could mean she is withdrawn for the night and not available to Rochefort."

Constance nodded. "I can do that. The Queen will know how to manage it." 

"Constance." It was Aramis's turn to ask a favour. "I would be very grateful if you could manage a discreet word with Marguerite. Just to assure her that she is not alone any more; give her some heart." Such was the heartfelt plea in his eyes that Constance reached over and squeezed his hand briefly. 

"I'll do that. That poor girl. I knew there was something badly wrong with her." 

"Constance, thank you," Athos said. "You are invaluable to us, as always. And very brave." 

A little touch of colour rose in Constance's cheeks but she said levelly, "she's my Queen. You're all my family. So I'll do whatever is needed." 

And then she found herself the centre of four men who gave her very respectful and very courtly bows. 

"Oh, go on with you all!" she clucked, then turned back to Athos, very businesslike "Now, assuming you find something on Rochefort?" 

Athos leaned back in his chair and regarded the company. "Now, that is where we bring in Treville." He saw Aramis wince, knowing the loss of their former commander's esteem would be a very hard thing to bear. "In so far as what he needs to know. The part about Rochefort , working for Spain, posing a threat to the King and Queen. Anything else," he stressed, "stays in this room. Only to be revealed if necessary. And by that I mean , only if there is absolutely no other choice." 

He looked around the group and got nods of assent from them all, and a very grateful under the lashes look from Aramis.

"Treville's a great man," d'Artagnan commented, "but he's not Captain any more."

"However, he still has contact with, and the respect of people who the King will not be able to dismiss easily, if they present any evidence to him. If we do find what we need, I want to giver Rochefort no chance of wriggling out of this, for he has something of a talent for that. I want any evidence to be presented in a legitimate manner so that any allegations Rochefort might make when arrested will seem like the desperate lies of a desperate man. And at the same time, possibly offer our friend Treville some chance of redemption by showing he's still a good and loyal servant of the crown."

He looked around at the assembled company and saw approval mixed with admiration on their faces.

"Now that," said Porthos with a wink to Constance, "is why Athos does the strategy!"

"We all need to be on duty soon," Athos said in summary. "Aramis and I will speak with Treville as soon as we can."

"What's our part in this?" Porthos asked with a look at d'Artagnan.

"For today, carry on as normal. We're all at the palace, so should be able to meet for lunch, as usual. Keep an eye out for any changes in Rochefort's plans. The arrangement is to meet Milady here at six thirty. We should regroup here at six. We may need you two to keep an eye on things at the palace; get word of any unexpected return by Rochefort. In case something arises that requires his attention back at his office. Be ready to think on your feet, as usual."

The other two nodded their assent but there was still a question hanging in the air.

"if nothing is found in Rochefort's office, we think again. But one way or another, before he can touch us, we are bringing this bastard down!"

"Pardon, Constance!" he said with an apologetic nod of his head for the language he wouldn't have normally used in front of a lady.

"Oh, my Lord, I like your strategy!" Constance commented with a wide, admiring smile. "And your descriptive and very appropriate use of language!"

This produced a general chuckle of amusement, which the company needed as they climbed to their feet, the men putting on their hats and Constance reached for her cloak which d'Artaganan helped her to put on.

Aramis put a hand on Constance's arm, pulling her back for a moment as the others went ahead to open the door.

"Constance, thank you from my heart. Not just for this. But for not giving me words of condemnation today, however you must feel about my actions," he said softly.

"Condemnation," she said kindly, "is for people who've never made mistakes. And I think you'll have had enough hard words for one day--most of them from yourself." There was compassion in her eyes; whether it was just that she'd known about his secret longer, or a woman's kinder nature, Aramis was very glad of it. "The Queen, my mistress, can be very...engaging," she added with a little squeeze of Aramis's hands. "But...remember what you have now." She cast a significant glance at Athos's back. "He'll never let you down." 

At this Aramis lifted up her hand, raised it to his lips and kissed it reverently, utter gratitude for her understanding in his eyes. 

D'Artagnan glanced back and saw the gesture but didn't comment, just came back and planted a small farewell kiss on Constance's lips. Aramis was about to go outside when Athos came back in, gesturing the others to go on ahead. The nobleman closed the door, to give them a moment of privacy. 

"That wasn't easy, I know." Athos reached up a hand to stroke his lover's cheek. "They are angry. But they won't --can't--stop loving you, any more than I can." Then he pulled Aramis into a hug, reassuring arms going around him. "Ever." 

"I love you. And them," Aramis , burying his head briefly in the space between Athos's neck and shoulder, gathering strength from the embrace, returning it with equal measure. "Always." 

"We know," Athos told him, with a hint of the private smile that made Aramis's heart leap. "You ready?" 

Aramis nodded and they stepped out of the door, locking it behind them and made to follow their friends towards the garrison. 

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	8. Chapter

Athos and Aramis had made time to seek out Trevllle before they had to depart for their duty at the palace. They found him in the armoury, cleaning a musket. 

"Sir, can we have a word, in private?" 

"I keep telling you boys, it's not sir any more." Treville gave a remonstrative shake of his head. Though he had told them this numerous times over the past few months, it was a habit the four inseparables couldn't seem to break. "What is it?" 

"Something urgent that we need your advice on." Athos gestured to a quieter corner of the building where they wouldn't be overheard. "Discretion is important." Once they were sure no-one else was nearby, he continued. "Sir, we have been given information that the Comte de Rochefort is not what he seems. That he is, in fact, an agent of Spain." 

Treville's eyes widened. "Now that," he said slowly, "is a very serious allegation. And, God knows, I don't like the man, but you'd have to be very sure about that before you tried to act on it." 

"We wouldn't be here without very good cause, Captain," Aramis said with grim earnestness. 

Treville didn't even bother correcting the younger man over his rank; he was too focused on the other's intense expression. Leaning back against a buttress, he folded his arms. "So-- tell me." 

"Last night Milady came to me with word of this. She believes Rochefort has been working for the spymaster Vargas since he came back from Spain," Athos told him. 

"Milady?" Treville canted a slightly sceptical eyebrow. "While it's true she does move in the world of espionage, she was very publicly thrown out of the palace like the baggage she is, and Rochefort stripped her of the King's gifts to her. Could be a motive to blacken his reputation, in revenge." 

"I considered that, of course, but the same intelligence was brought to us by another source, from within the palace. " Athos didn't elaborate; he was hoping to keep Marguerite's name out of it; however, it was not to be. 

"I need to know who the source is, if I am to judge if taking any action here is warranted." 

"It's Lady Marguerite, the Dauphin's nursemaid." 

"The Dauphin's nursemaid?" Their former Captain looked slightly puzzled. "What would she have to do with Rochefort?" He cast a glance over both of his companions. Aramis squrimed slightly; Treville had always had an ability to read him. "Aramis and the women!" Treville continued, "Nothing new there." He gave a rueful shake of his head. "She's your mistress?" 

"Was," Aramis admitted, always hating it when he'd let he'd let himself down in Treville's eyes. He inwardly thanked God that his former commander didn't know the extent of his trangressions. "She came to me for help. Rochefort has been blackmailing her to spy on the Queen. It was very brave of her to come forward and I think she's been driven to desperation by the pressure Rochefort's put her under." 

"There's enough confluence in both the stories we heard to convince us it was true," Athos assured Treville seriously. "And both ladies, along with d'Artagnan's Constance, speak of an unstable man, drunk on power, who could pose a massive danger to our royal family."

"Not just that. Our country itself!" Treville, looking pale and more than a little shaken. leaned back against the buttress for support. "The implications of this, with him so close to the King. Oh, I have heard stories, from other senior guards I'm still in touch with, of his autocracy and brutality. And he has excluded everyone else near the King. Therein lies the problem." His brows furrowed. "He's grown so powerful ,there would have to be solid evidence before the King before he'd believe it. Or anyone else senior enough to place it before him." 

"I may have a solution to that, sir. I have made an arrangement with Milady to search his offices tomorrow night when Rochefort's at the Flemish reception." 

"Now that," Treville said with a sharp intake of breath, "is both very brave and very, very risky." 

"I know that, sir, but it's a risk I'm prepared to take, for what's at stake here. And it's my risk. If I'm caught, I'll take the consequences." Athos said this with characteristic calm, making Aramis both hugely proud of him and fearful in equal measure. 

Treville also looked at the nobleman, clasping his shoulder. "You don't change, Athos. And I'm very glad of that. But Milady? Not exactly the most trustworthy of allies. What's her motivation here?" 

"Manifold, sir, as ever, I expect. An axe to grind with Rochefort, without a doubt. And for whatever else she can get out of it for herself. But oddly enough, some sort of long forgotten sense of patriotism which I think has surprised even her. But she doe have expertise in this area and knows the Cardinal's old offices well. I thought it best to take the chance when Rochefort is out of the way. His state of mind seems unstable and I believe urgency is needed here." 

"I agree." Treville nodded soberly. "It would be impossible for me to go directly to the King at the moment; my stall with him is too low. But I can take this to contacts who will be better able to deal with this if evidence can be produced. The Comte de Bretagne, with his links to the Secret Service, persists in being my friend, despite my fall from grace. " He gave a wry smile. 

"We knew you would be the best judge of how to handle this, sir," Athos said respectfully. 

"Well, thank you for your show of faith, gentlemen. Let us hope it is not misplaced." Although obviously concerned by the situation, Treville looked more like himself than he'd done in months. Resolute. Focused. It had saddened all of the musketeers to see their capable Captain's talents unused since his demotion. "Yes, action must be taken here. I will see Bretagne this morning and see what strategy he has for handling anything found against Rochefort. How many others know of this?" 

"The four of us and Constance, who will act as our liaison with the Queen ," Aramis said. "Both she and Marguerite fear Rochefort harbours an...unhealthy obsession with her Majesty, which puts her in great danger." 

"All the more reason for swift action--and complete discretion, gentlemen. Normal behaviour for the rest of today. You both have palace duty, I believe. Eyes and ears open there, of course. Do you plan to reconnoitre?"

"At six, at Bonacieux's. I would be grateful if you could meet us there also. Milady is due to arrive by six thirty, by which time it will be dark and less likely to cause any unwanted speculation." 

"I'll be there," Treville assured them, then gave Athos an approving look. "Good planning, as ever, Athos. And that is why," he added, fixing the other with his habitual direct loo, "if offered the captaincy, you should take it." 

"Sir--" 

"I know, not the time or place to discuss it. But you know I think it is a strong possibility. So you should be thinking about it." 

Athos just gave a respectful nod. Aramis, at his side, kept his silence and tried to not to betray his surprise at the exchange. The idea that Treville would think of Athos as a natural successor to himself was not a new one. And although Treville did not currently have much power, it was obvious that others with his experience and judgement might also make the same conclusion as their former commander had. And typical of Athos's lack of self-importance not to have told his lover of the possibility. 

"And now, gentlemen," Treville said in closing, "we all have our work to do. Let's hope for the sake of King and country, we can see it to a proper conclusion. 

The other two nodded in respect. "Thank you, Captain ," Athos said sincerely. 

"I'm not--" Treville muttered and then gave up, with a little smile and shake of his head. This was a habit they could not seem to break. "Till tonight," he murmured and they left the armoury then parted company. As they watched their former commander retreat, his posture cheered the other two. His stride was more like that of the Captain they knew, not the man who had been stripped of his rank and severely wounded in the last few months. 

Athos and Aramis made their way to the stables. When they were saddling their horses and sure no-one was in earshot, Aramis looked pointedly at his lover. 

"The captaincy? Treville's spoken to you about it?" 

"It's just speculation on his part," Athos replied as he fastened on his horse's bridle. 

"Yes, but if he thinks you're right for it, others will too." 

"If it ever did happen," Athos said, busying himself with putting on the saddle, "I'm not sure if I'd want it." 

"You ought to," Aramis admonished him. "You were made for it. And it's not just us three but most men in the regiment would rather have you than anyone, if they can't have Treville." 

"We may get the Captain back, if we can get rid of Rochefort," Athos demurred. 

"All to the good, if we do," said Aramis as he made the final adjustments to Aurora's bridle and saddle. "But even so, one day the vacancy will be there. We know Lieutenant d'Aubert is only staving off his retirement because he didn't want Rochefort putting in his own man." The caretaker commander, like many in the army, had no liking for their archenemy. If it comes along, you should take it. You deserve it, and we--I--would back you completely." 

Athos threw his lover a quick, warm smile. "Let's just get today out of the way first, shall we?" he added softly. 

There was a mutual exchange of looks; a settling into the mission mode. However, it had been good, even for a few moments to look beyond the immediate danger facing them. It put Athos in a better frame of mind as they led their horses out into the garrison yard. Now he could only pray that he could deliver on the future he'd promised his lover.  
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The four friends came together again over lunch at the palace kitchens. The morning had been relatively uneventful : sentry duty for d'Artagnan and Porthos at the palace gates, for Athos and Aramis in the gardens. What would normally have been quite a pleasant duty on such a mild, sunny day was underscored with some tension, waiting for the evening to arrive so they could put their plans into action. 

Porthos was telling them how he and d'Artagnan had seen Rochefort been driven through the gates in a carriage about an hour earlier. 

"Sitting there like he was the King himself," Porthos said with disgust as he dipped a piece of bread into the soup before him. "Gave us a dirty look, but nothing new there." 

"We managed to do a shift swop so we can cover things here tonight," d'Artagnan added, looking at his soup without enthusiasm. On days with a big event at the palace, the basic fare on offer in the kitchens tended to get a little more basic. 

Athos nodded gratefully. They'd discussed it earlier; Porthos and d'Artagnan would be present at the reception to keep an eye on Rochefort with a view to being able to give warning if the First Minister should be called away early, causing interruption the search of his offices. The nobleman went on to tell them about their meeting with Treville earlier. 

"I hope he's been able to get something into place with the secret service. We're meeting with him at six, so we should know more by then." 

"I'm coming with you and Milady tonight," Aramis said quietly but firmly. 

Athos looked at him sharply. His initial thought had been that Aramis would accompany Treville to offer help in any capacity needed while he and Milady made their search. He'd wanted to keep his lover as far away as possible from that source of risk. 

"I don't mean into Rochefort's offices," Aramis continued. "Just to ride with you and keep a discreet guard outside. I know anything else is too risky." 

"We talked about this--" 

"I know. But I can't just sit on the sidelines on this--not when I'm partly responsible." Aramis said with conviction. 

D'Artagnan weighed into the conversation. "That's not a bad idea, given who we're dealing with." 

Athos knew the Gascon's experience with Milady had given him good reason to be mistrustful of her; what he said made sense. The nobleman looked across at Aramis's face, with its quietly determined expression. Inaction had never sat easily with him and although Athos's instinct was to protect him it would also be a comfort to have him close by tonight. 

"So be it," he said, earning himself a grateful flash of a smile in Aramis's eyes. They became aware of Constance making her way towards them across the bustling kitchens. Sometimes she got a chance to pay a short visit to d'Artagnan and anyone else with him when they had a meal break. She gave them all a welcoming smile and slipped into a waiting seat so that anyone looking over wouldn't see anything out of the ordinary. 

Athos thanked her for getting away then asked her if she'd managed to warn the Queen and how her Majesty had taken the news about Rochefort. 

"Anxious, of course, but holding her nerve," Constance told them. She added that the opportunity to speak privately with the Queen had been very brief. She had left the identity of the sources out of the disclosure, also omitting their own names, only mentioning Treville and the Secret Service as being specifically involved. "Her Majesty seemed happy about that, but of course is eager for further news. I didn't speak of the other matter." 

"That was well done, Constance." Athos had known he'd be able to rely on Constance's good sense and judgement. Mention of her husband's former mistress in the matter was not likely to inspire the Queen's confidence and there were too many of Rochefort's spies in the palace to risk speaking of the other secret, unless absolutely necessary. The Queen would be likely to be able to read between the lines as to their own involvement. 

"What of Marguerite?" Aramis asked anxiously. 

"I managed to speak to her briefly. She is not in a good way but I think it gave her heart to know action was being taken." 

"And is the Queen aware of her involvement?" 

"I have not spoken of it yet." Constance looked questioningly at Athos. 

"Quite right, for now, Constance," Athos affirmed. The more discretion in this building where every wall had ears, the better. "Have you seen Rochefort today?" 

"Glimpses of him. Busy with preparations for tonight, strutting round like the King himself." Constance almost spat the words out. "He hasn't had time to come near the Queen." 

"The busier he is, the better. Now, as to tonight, can you ask the Quee if she can stay at the reception for least two hours. That should give us ample time to do what needs doing and for you to be there to watch for any sign of Rochefort leaving earlier." 

Constance nodded and rose. "I must get back. I'll see you all later, at home." 

D'Artagnan caught hold of her hand and squeezed it briefly, his smile radiating his pride in her. She returned the smile and with a quick nod to the others, made her departure. 

"You've got a pearl beyond price there," Aramis said to d'Artagnan as they climbed to their feet a few moments later. 

"Don't I know it, brother!" the Gascon said smilingly, catching Aramis's eye then directing his gaze towards Athos, who was walking slightly ahead of them with Porthos. Aramis acknowledged his meaning with a little quirk of his own mouth. 

Glancing back, Athos saw the smile briefly crossing his lover's face and was glad of it, for whatever reason as they made their way back to the relative tedium of their afternoon duty. The countdown towards tonight's drama had begun. 

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	9. Chapter 9

Dusk was settling as the four musketeers rode up to the Bonacieux household again. They were relieved to see Treville's horse already there and their former Captain himself waiting for them within. Once they were all safely inside Treville looked at them soberly. 

"Well, gentlemen, this is crucial business that we're about tonight. I've apprised the Comte de Bretagne of the situation and he's taking it very seriously indeed. " He went on to tell them that the number of significant figures around the King who had disappeared myseriously had begun to concern Bretagne, who still had direct control of some parts of the espionage service. Rochefort's autocratic behaviour in sidelining all the King's other advisers had been another reason for unease. "While Milady isn’t an ideal ally, Bretagne is behind your idea of using her knowledge of the Cardinal's old offices, and to take advantage of the opportunity tonight. He'll be waiting for us at his offices from eight onwards. If you can't find evidence that Rochefort is working for the Spanish, then Bretagne will work out the next step to take." 

Athos mentioned the Queen's letter to her brother the Spanish King, which they suspected the First Minister had retained. 

"That in itself, if he's kept it, could be a useful indication towards his intentions," Treville commented. 

At this point there was a coded knock on the door and Constance, having prepared herself to support the Queen at the reception in a more intricate gown and hairstyle than the one she'd worn this morning, entered the house. D'Artagnan got up to greet her with a kiss on the cheek. 

"You look beautiful," he told her. 

"Indeed!" said Treville, also coming forward to kiss her hand. "Constance, you are doing your country a very great service." 

This time Constance flushed more deeply at the praise. 

"I'm only doing my duty, Captain", she murmured. 

Again Treville was about to correct her about the use of his title but decided this was probably as futile as trying to stop the other musketeers. 

"I can't be long; I need to be back at the Queen's side before the reception. But she wanted any news I could bring." 

"We have had you run quite ragged today," Athos said apologetically. 

D'Artagnan promised he and Porthos would ride back with her, then Athos went on to outline for Treville where they'd all be positioned during tonight's action. Treville approved of everything. 

"Yes, an extra pair of eyes on your back with Milady--very wise!" he said to Athos. 

"Did Bretagne discuss any sort of recompense for her?" Athos asked. "As no doubt she'll enquire." 

"And we all thought she was doing it for love of country!" Treville said with a certain amount of sarcasm, causing them all to give ironic smiles. 

"Bretagne wants to see if she delivers first. You can tell her a monetary reward is under consideration. I'll speak to you about it separately." 

Athos nodded. They paused for d'Artagnan to produce a bottle of brandy which had been a gift from the Queen following his assistance to the King while they were with the slavers. He had suggested a quick stiffening drink before the arrival of Milady. Aramis went to help Constance bring some glasses and asked if Rochefort had tried to see the Queen today. 

"Only in the presence of the King, and briefly at that," Constance assured him. "She took Athos's advice to stay well occupied." 

Aramis was glad to hear it, but also asked after Marguerite. 

"Holding on, but stretched to her limit, I think," the Queen's maid said with concern. "I hope we get some results soon." 

Aramis inwardly echoed the sentiment. His own nerves were stretched, It had been a long day, going through the motions of ordinary behaviour while waiting for the chance to take some action. 

They brought the glasses over to d'Artagnan, who poured them each a small shot of the golden liquor, except for Constance, who had no liking for it. D'Artagnan handed Athos a glass and took him to one side. 

"Athos, I know I'm preaching to the converted but, but please, just be extra careful with Milady tonight," he said in a low, concerned voice. "She's unattached at present, as far as we know. It could be in her twisted mind she sees this as a way to get you back. Helping her country, turning over a new leaf and so forth." 

"Yes, I've thought of all the possibilities. And there was a time I might...just might have been tempted," Athos admitted and they shared a little look. D'Artagnan knew the dangerous allure of Milady better than anyone. Athos cast a glance over at Aramis, who was picking up a glass for himself and handing another to Porthos, as Constance chatted to Treville. "But not anymore. Besides, I know she'll never change. One does not deliberately partake of poison a second time." Both men knew the sting of Milady's venom; they exchanged a moment of understanding as they clinked glasses. 

At the same time Porthos was speaking to Aramis, aside from Treville. 

"Porthos, you don't have to tell me again what an idiot I've been," Aramis said with a certain weariness, sure his friend was about to castigate him again. "I'm all too aware of it." 

Direct as ever, the dark man said, "What we said before--needed saying." His demeanour, however, was much gentler than it had been at the morning conference. "Just wanted to remind you that if--when--we get past this with Rochefort, you've got to remember that boy is the Dauphin. Even if he is your blood he was born in a palace and he'll be our next king. He needs to grow up knowing that. Without any doubts." 

"I know I need to keep my proper distance from now on," Aramis said with an air of downcast acceptance that brought a twinge of compassion from Porthos, who put a hand on his arm. 

"You have to. And you do it knowing that no child in France will be better cared for. The King, whatever his faults, loves that boy to distraction, Just as it should be." 

"And how it will stay," Aramis said, raising his glass. "To the Dauphin?" he suggested. 

"The Dauphin!" Porthos affirmed, glad of his friend's acceptance of the reality of the situation as he clinked glasses with him. "Bet you're not happy about the She-Devil being involved with this," he murmured as the took a swig of their drinks. 

"I bloody hate it!" Aramis almost spat the words out, eyes flashing, "And that he's taking the risk. That's why I'm going with them. But he still has to be alone with her." 

"Watch that bitch!" Porthos urged him. "She's done him enough damage for one lifetime." 

"Oh, I will," Aramis assured him fiercely. "Every second!" 

On the other side of the room, Treville had gravitated towards Athos. 

"You could have gone to someone higher up with this yourself," the former Captain said quietly. "Claimed total credit if your plan succeeds. Why come to me?" 

"Because there's no-one' else's direction we trust so much, sir," Athos answered truthfully. 

The unspoken subtext between them was that Treville knew Athos hoped their former commander might also benefit from any fruits of their mission. 

"Well, I must admit I've felt more purpose today then I've done in months," Treville confessed. "And if this comes off, I'll make sure the right people know who was responsible. But just remember--be bloody careful with her in Rochefort's offices." 

"I think every person in this room has said that to me today," Athos said with an ironic twist of his lips. "I will." Then he called the group together for a toast. "To success tonight." 

They all echoed the sentiment as they raised their glasses. Then, although no one person initiated it, the four inseparables gravitated together into a collective hug; like several times before, drawing strength from their unity. 

Treville clapped a hand on Athos's shoulder. "Now all we need is Milady." 

As though on cue, they heard a rider approaching. Treville moved to look out the window and Constance to clear away the glasses. As the others moved away, Athos kept his hand draped over Aramis's shoulder for a moment . 

"Don't give me cause to be jealous," Aramis whispered lightly, but the dark eyes flashed with the spark of his Spanish heritage. A warm thrill ran through Athos; little signs of possessiveness like this were still a new thing and precious as nuggets of gold. 

"Or there will be...fireworks?" he answered, just the hint of a smile playing on his lips. 

"Like you wouldn't believe," Aramis whispered; his look teasing but with that flash of fire still there as they drew apart. 

The hoof-beats got nearer, then stopped. "What d'ya reckon?" said Porthos. "Cloven hooves?" 

No-one in the room, even Athos, could help but be amused at the mischievous glint in Porthos's eyes as he quickly made the sign of the cross. 

"Well, no horns on show, but the She-Devil's here," Treville said and opened the door. Milady entered, pulling down the hood of her cloak. She looked around at the assembled company. Six hostile stares greeted her. 

"Well, good evening." She pulled her gloves off with a flourish. "Always good to be made to feel welcome," she declared with a sarcastic smile. 

"You're not here on a social visit, Milady," Treville said with equal irony. 

"Ah, former Captain Treville. Or is it Corporal now? A significant reduction in rank, since our last assocation. How unfortunate for a man of your long service. The vagaries of the King's favour!" 

"As you know well, Milady," Treville countered with a courtly nod of his head that was as devoid of sincerity as her smile. 

"I take it that you are the liaison with the Secret Service?" 

"The proper authorities are aware of the situation. And are duly grateful for your bringing this to our attention." Trevilled added grudgingly , "And for your help tonight." 

"Well, we have a common enemy," Milady said. "Call it a marriage of convenience." That mocking gaze with the barest hint of suggestiveness fell on Athos, who countered it with his most expressionless face. "Why are the rest of your coterie here?" she asked. "To glare at me?" She looked disparagingly at the others, then her gaze settled on Aramis, who was standing close to Athos. "Or purely for decorative purposes?" 

Aramis felt himself start to flush and fought down the wave of enmity he already harboured towards this woman. Beside him, with a a lover's sensitivity, he was aware of Athos's posture stiffening slightly. The nobleman's face grew even more unreadable. 

"Kindly remember what I said yesterday about my friends," he said in a calm drawl, "and tonight's business will go far better. Constance is our liaison with her Majesty, d'Artagnan and Porthos are on duty at the reception to keep watch for any signs of Rochefort leaving early, and Aramis will be riding with us." 

Milady looked slightly taken aback and not altogether pleased, though she schooled her face swiftly. 

"Three of us in Rochefort's office is far too risky." 

"We're aware of that," Aramis said, trying to match his lover's cool manner. "I'll be keeping a discreet watch outside." 

Whatever Milady thought, she just nodded. 

Constance interjected to say she couldn't delay any longer in getting back to the palace. She, d'Artagnan and Porthos put on their capes and made ready to leave. 

As she passed Milady the two women looked at each other; their postures like those of snarling cats, with backs arching. 

"My dear Constance, you look well," Milady drawled, flashing a supercilious smile. "Life at the palace, even in a servile position, seems to agree with you." 

Constance had obviously been prepared for the sarcasm and replied in like manner, "At least mine is an honest position, and secure. Unlike yours, which despite all your... experience, you were not able to sustain." 

Constance might as well have called her the King's whore, and a failed one at that. Each man in the room inwardly applauded her hutzpah in being equal to Milady's putdown. 

Milady's eyes narrowed but a warning look from Athos kept her silent. 

The nobleman followed Constance, d'Artagnan and Porthos outside. The Gascon clapped a hand on his shoulder before helping Constance onto the horse borrowed from the palace stables. Athos walked over with Porthos and watched as the darker man mounted his steed 

"Good luck with the search. And watch the alley cat!" Pothos added in an undertone. 

"Porthos," Athos said so as not to be overheard, "if it goes badly tonight and I get caught or arrested, go to Lord Xavier. He'll give you whatever help you need to keep everyone safe." Although he hadn't discussed any of the recent developments with his father's old friend and neighbour, who was also his godfather, he knew he could rely completely on the nobleman to do whatever was needed to aid his friends. "If it looks hopeless for me, don't let Aramis do anything stupid." Porthos made to protest but Athos stalled him with a look. "Porthos, I'm relying on you." he said with quiet finality, giving his friend no choice but to nod in agreement. 

They shared a brief handclasp then Porthos spurred his horse on and the other two fell in behind him. Constance, the last in the party, turned her head and offered Athos an encouraging smile. He took a moment to inhale deeply and put himself in the right mental state for the job ahead of him.  
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When the others had gone outside, Milady had asked Treville if any payment would be offered for her assistance. 

"That's a matter for others to decide. No doubt a suitable price will be put on your endeavours." Treville added with heavy irony, "And here we were thinking you were motivated by patriotism." 

Unabashed, Milady said smoothly, "Aren’t we all? But a girl has to make a living." 

Treville canted a disparaging eyebrow at her then went outside, saying he needed a quick word with Porthos and d'Artagnan before they left. 

Taking in Aramis's barely concealed look of disdain, she said, "I've always been willing to serve my country. I don't see why my efforts shouldn’t be rewarded." 

The musketeer's eyes narrowed as he recalled how she had strutted round the court as Louis' mistress, decked in jewels and finery and shaming the Queen. 

"Well, after all, you are used to being paid for your services." 

Milady gave him a defiant look. 

"If you're referring to the King, I find that somewhat rich-- coming from someone who in his time will have taken his share of gifts from highborn women or bored wives of rich men. It's common practice for musketeers and others of your kind . Only it goes under the name of "romance". Most things in this life come at a price," she said, her expressson hardening. "I do what I have to do to survive." 

The jibe about accepting favours from mistresses stung a little, but Aramis refused to let it show, giving her a defensively sarcastic smile. 

"Oh, but you do it with such relish, Milady!" 

She met his gaze with an arrogant tilt of her head. She leaned back on one foot, thrusting her bosom forward slightly. Although in male clothing as she was riding, she still cut a fine figure: a woman in her prime, confident in her sexuality. 

"And, pray, why not? Why shouldn't I use the assets and wits nature gave me, any way I chose? When a man does it, no-one bats an eyelid. If a woman does it, she's a slut. You needn't give me the holier-than-thou attitude, Monsieur Chevalier. It's partly thanks to one of your pecadilloes gone wrong that we're here tonight. Don't forget that by playing a part in this I'm doing you a favour. Really, Aramis, sanctimony ill-behooves a failed priest. " Her tone dripping with sweet sarcasm, she gave a reproving shake of her head. "I understand you're not unacquainted with royal beds yourself. If I was the King's whore, what does that make you?" 

They heard the door opening and both turned towards it as Athos came in. 

"Ah, here comes your sainted friend and leader--whose inability to stand by his wedding vows led me to such ..interesting career choices!" 

Aramis held himself back. His body trembled with the effort not to rise to her bait. Her malicious words did make him cringe but were easier to bear than her affront to the man he loved. He had rarely had the urge to strike a woman before and had it not been for what was at risk tonight and the promise he'd made Athos, he would have liked to wipe that arrogant sneer off her face. 

Athos could feel the air bristling with tension as he re-entered the house. "We had best get away," he said as Treville appeared behind him. 

With a last disparaging smile to Aramis, Milady moved out of the door, pulling on her gloves. Athos threw a quick questioning look at his lover as they followed, and was answered by a brief shake of the other's head. It was not difficult to surmise that Milady had been putting her sharp tongue to work . 

Treville stood beside them as they climbed onto their horses. "By the time you arrive Rochefort should safely be on his way to the reception." He gave Athos a handclasp. "Be careful, and good luck, I'll be waiting for you at Bretagne's office."  
Mounted, with his current lover and former wife flanking him, both fixing him with their gazes, Athos had a strangely surreal moment, as though past and future were overlapping. 

"All right, let's do this!" he prompted and with him taking the lead, they spurred on their horses and made towards the palace.  
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	10. chapter 10

It was dark by the time they'd tethered their horses to a secluded spot near the wing of the palace where Rochefort's offices were located. As they made their way towards it, they could see that it was only minimally illuminated. The majority of the palace security was concentrated on the reception in the main wing. Although the patrolling of the outer wings was the Red Guard's province, it hadn't been difficult to determine the pattern of the rounds. With their master elsewhere, their presence was at a low level. Athos and his party were hoping to make their entry during a gap in the patrol which should give them a slot of about 15 minutes . 

As they made their way towards the wing, sticking to the shadow of the hedges, Aramis was behind Athos and Milady. He heard her whispering to her former husband. 

"Strange to find ourselves on the same page, for once, And oddly, not unpleasant." 

Aramis loved Athos's cool response. "I can assure you that the page will be turning as soon as we achieve our joint goal." 

Aramis couldn't see Milady's face but heard the low, almost sceptical laugh she gave in response, and had been aware of that veiled hint of seduction in her tone. 

She wants him back, he thought, his stomach churning. However he knew he had to push down his feelings of unease and had his face carefully schooled by the time they reached a side door, slipping in as quietly as possible. 

Candlelight flickered from the wall sconces as they made their way with equal stealth along the empty corridors, arriving at last at the one that turned towards Rochefort's office. They ducked into a corridor leading off from it, hanging back in the shadows as they heard footsteps approaching a minute or so later. As expected, the sentry passed. Once he was safely out of earshot, there was a quick nod exchanged between Athos and Milady and they all moved out towards the room they needed to access. While Milady moved out in front, Aramis took a second to lay a hand on Athos's arm, squeezing it briefly. 

"Stay safe," he mouthed silently. There was a quick nod and flicker of a smile from Athos before he followed Milady. 

Aramis made sure he had a good vantage point of both approaches and melted back into concealment, settling himself down for a nervous wait. 

Milady was also already trying the door into the First Minister's inner office which, not unexpectedly, was locked. She took a pin out of her coiffeur, bending it and placing it into the lock, After a small amount of manipulation the lock clicked. She swung the door open with a flourish and a bobbing curtsey, lips quirking slightly at the disapproving look Athos cast on her theatricality. Once inside they divided up, as planned, and began to look through the documents in cabinets set against the walls. A quick scan of a few of them indicated just what would have been expected: paperwork relating to Rochefort's administrative work. 

"He's not likely to have left anything revealing within easy reach," Milady murmured. "There's a concealed room the cardinal used to use. If Rochefort's aware of it, he might keep confidential material there." Moving to the bookcase on the left wall, she pressed one of the books. Athos realised it must be a lever mechanism as the bookcase swung open to reveal a space behind it. How like the Cardinal, Athos thought as he picked up a candlestick and followed her into the dark space. 

"Only a trusted few know of this," she explained. 

"A dubious distinction," Athos replied, with a touch of derision. 

"Depending on your perspective." Milady made her way confidently to the back of the small space. "Working for the cleverest, most powerful man in France was the height of my professional achievement. We will not look on his like again." 

Athos saw there were a couple of cabinets on either side of the walls, and a door at the end.. 

"A way out if we are disturbed?" 

"Unlikely. I had time to get in here once when the Cardinal was delayed," Milady said, moving towards one cabinet and trying it. It didn't give, so she pulled out her hairpin and got to work on the lock. "The lock is more complex than those on the other door. I think the Cardinal probably kept the key on him." 

Athos tried the other cabinet, which opened without a problem. There were shelves full of documents. He pulled one out and scanned it quickly. It appeared to be a report from a spy in the Spanish border area, addressed to the Cardinal and dated about a year ago. 

"Don't expect me to get nostalgic over Richlieu. Clever, yes, but ruthless and self-serving. You would admire him, of course," he said dryly. 

"Some of us live in the real world, where honour is sometimes a luxury. He did what he had to do for his country. I did what I had to do to survive. He needed someone at the top of their game to perform certain tasks, and I supplied that need. We understood each other. Damn!" The lock was proving recalcitrant. "Any luck there?" 

"It seems mainly to be intelligence reports." He had looked over several by now, some from foreign spies, some domestic. "All from the Cardinal's era." 

"Ah, there it is!" Milady's efforts yielded fruit at last, as the cabinet swung open. She began pulling open some of the smaller drawers at the bottom. 

"Oh, really?" she said with a chuckle. "The Cardinal had all the scandal!" Athos guessed she was reading something salacious. The last couple of reports he had scanned had been about the outre sexual practices of two prominent noblemen. 

"Some of quite distasteful," he murmured as he read of the private preferences of a leading bishop that made his eyebrows lift. "Nothing here belonging to Rochefort. You?" 

"No, all of Richlieu's era," Milady said as she speed-read through a couple more documents. 

Athos decided his own search was going nowhere and turned to see Milady, working on the lock of a larger compartment within the cabinet, which she was able to open without too much trouble. 

"Ah, I knew it!" She pulled out a box and opened it, Athos could see the glint of gold coins, the sparkle of gemstones. "His Insurance, in case he needed a quick getaway. The wily old fox! Nothing left to chance," she murmured admiringly; an avaricious glint in her eyes as she held up a ruby and pearl necklace which gleamed in the candlelight. 

"That is not what we're here for," Athos took the necklace out of her hand, put it back in the box and closed the lid with a snap. He put it back where she'd found it. "Or is it what you're here for?" he asked, giving her a searching look. 

"I'm here, like you, to unseat Rochefort," she said, meeting his gaze levelly. "But I never did get any severance pay from the Cardinal." She smiled coolly. "This could do in lieu." 

"Good God, you're not a civil servant who didn't get a pension!" Athos said exasperatedly. "You sold yourself to him and he tossed you away the moment you weren't useful to him anymore. But he was a crown servant. If this belongs to anyone, it's the treasury. You'll be properly paid for what you've done. Bretagne will see to that. There's obviously nothing here to help us. We're wasting time." 

Milady gave him an unreadable look but after a moment, nodded, closed the larger cabinet and followed him out of the door. The bookcase snapped closed behind them, with nothing to indicate the existence of the secret space. They turned their attention to Rochefort's desk. Athos pulled open a drawer, finding mainly writing materials. The two next to it was locked. Milady did her business with the hairpin. The first opened without too much effort but the second proved more awkward. She muttered a small expletive. "Let's see if there are any other keys around," she said, and turned her attention to a strongbox on the top of the desk. As she began working on the lock, she resumed their personal conversation.

"What was I to do after I escaped the hangman, but go back to what I knew?" 

"Lying and murder?" Athos shot back at her as he swiftly looked through the papers in the first drawer. So far all he had come across were papers relating to domestic matters and some slightly more sensitive intelligence reports but nothing to say Rochefort was anything other than what he seemed to be. "There are always choices even if it involves survival." 

"Oh yes, my lord le Comte, it's easy to judge--when you've wanted for nothing your entire life! When you've never known cold or hunger, or that your wits and ability to grasp opportunities are all that gets you through from one day's end to the next; keeps you out of the gutter." 

Athos knew he'd exposed a raw nerve here. Yes, he could feel some compassion for the hard start she'd had in life. But Porthos was from a similar sort of background but his friend had never become hardened and warped the way Milady had. Although he knew he shouldn't let himself get drawn in, the nobleman couldn't help but ask, "Was I just an opportunity to you? A stepping stone to a better life." 

"No!" Milady's eyes flashed. "It was the one time in my life that expediency matched with my heart's desire. If I'd told you the truth about the life I'd had before we met, you'd never have married me. And I wanted you, more than anything." 

There was an intensity in the way she looked at him that reminded Athos of the early days, when she'd responded to him with a passion equal to his own. He found himself convinced that there was a core of truth in what she'd said. There was a time he would have crawled over broken glass to hear her say things like that but now it just felt like too little, too late, and precious little comfort for the pain he'd endured because of her. 

He forced himself to tear his gaze away from her, his voice not quite steady as he said roughly, "Well, it's in the past now. Let's apply ourselves to the present. Look out for anything that might bear the royal seal." 

Milady scanned his face for another moment but any hint of vulnerability was quickly gone, hidden behind her usual mask. "Anything in particular?" she asked, rifling quickly through the various items in the box. 

"Possibly from the Queen." Athos had come up with nothing and was beginning to wonder if this whole exercise had been in vain. If they could at least find the letter Constance had told them about- 

"Like this?" Milady held up a paper, its wax seal showing a royal symbol. "The Queen's stamp--and writing," She held the document up to the light. A catlike smile played over her face. "And addressed to her brother, the Spanish King. How very interesting!" She made as if to open it. 

Athos said severely, "That's the Queen's property." He held out his hand. 

"Oh, has the sainted Anne been a naughty girl, then?" Milady said with a mocking curl of her lips as she passed the letter over the desk to him. "Will that help?" 

"Perhaps. Certainly better out off Rochefort's hands. But not in itself incriminating him as a spy." Athos pocketed the letter and continued to look through the other documents. 

"Nothing there?" 

"Only some rather creative expense claims. And those are hardly unique !" Athos added with a snort. Something rattled as he pulled the drawer further open and he saw a small box at the back. "Now..what's this?" He opened the lid on the small wooden container and within it saw that there were a number of keys, a couple of larger ones which looked as though they might be door keys, and some smaller. "I wonder...?" He quickly went over to the main door, trying one key, which didn't fit. The second, however, turned in the lock. 

"Now, that's to the good," said Milady. "A duplicate. We can lock the door behind us when we go, Less chance of alerting suspicion when the door is opened again." She knew from her time at the palace that Rochefort sometimes came back here to work before retiring for the night, and had informed Athos of this on their journey here. 

Athos quickly made his way back to the desk. While Milady was checking through the other documents in the box, he tried one, then another of the smaller keys. Neither worked, but the third key he tried fitted smoothly and the drawer slid open. Within there was a bag which might contain coins but what drew his attention was a book lying on top of the other papers in the drawer He could see the edges of a piece of paper peeking out for inside it. It was a copy of Cervantes "Don Quixote." Curious, he opened the book and pulled out the single sheet of vellum folded within, almost like a bookmark. His heart skipped a beat as he read the first line: "My Dear Vargas..." 

As he quickly scanned it he was inwardly giving thanks. Perhaps the Lord really had answered last night's prayers. There were a couple of sentences that particularly caught his attention that made his heart leap, but in a different way. 

"This is it! A message--or the draft of a message--addressed to Vargas himself. Everything needed to bring Rochefort down." He hastily put the letter in his jacket beside the other document. 

"Really? To Vargas in person?" Again Milady gaver her predatory smile: the huntress's delight at having cornered her prey. 

"You were right about his mental state," Athos told her, closing the drawer and making sure everything was as he'd found it. "We need to get out of here--now!" 

Milady nodded assent, putting everything back in the strongbox and making sure that nothing on the desk looked out of place, at least on a cursory examination. They made their way towards the door. Athos felt his adrenaline surging: success almost within reach. He was about to turn the doorknob when Milady's hand fell on his arm. 

"Olivier, just a moment," 

He looked over at her. Here it comes, he thought: the personal overture he 'd been expecting she might make. The fact that he'd been prepared for it didn't make it any more palatable. 

"Something like what we had doesn't just fade away. " Although she spoke softly, her eyes were glowing with that same intensity she'd shown while talking earlier about their marriage. "I know we've said and done terrible things to each other. Hate. But it's the other side of the coin. That's what they say, don't they? You are I are bound together, and you know it." 

Athos felt a shudder run through him. Echoes of great passion, and equally great pain, rippling through his soul. 

"That might have been true once, Anne, but no longer. The only thing that binds us now is bad memories." 

"We could make new memories, given a chance," she murmured, her hand squeezing his arm persuasively. "I want my life to be different, Leave the spying and all of that behind, And you must want more out of life than soldiering for a King who doesn't deserve your loyalty. We could make a fresh start, away from France. England. Spain. Maybe even the Americas." 

I wonder if she really believes this possible, he thought with a slight sense of unreality. He put his hand over hers, but it was only to lift it off his arm. "If you want to make a fresh start away from France, then you should. I have a life here that suits me. A life I never could or would share with you." 

She started to protest. Olivier--" 

"Just tell me one thing, Anne." He paused, trying to stay calm. If he didn't ask her this now, he never would. "Did you kill our child?" 

He could see he'd shocked her. The carefully contrived mask of hope and tenderness fell for a moment. She recovered swiftly. 

"How could believe such a thing? I miscarried! What would make you think otherwise?" 

She was such a good actress that it was impossible to decide if the distress was genuine but just for a moment there'd been a look in her eyes, like that of an animal being cornered. 

"You were seen by people in Pinon, visiting the wise woman," he told her, feeling beyond pain, beyond sorrow or reproach. Feeling only the need to be free of her for good. 

"The village women!" she said scornfully. "Those banal peasants were bound to spread malicious gossip about me. I went to the old woman because I was fearful of how the pregnancy was going. You would believe them over me, of course--who was your wife!" 

"Who had already lied to me. Too much has happened between us, Anne," Athos said with a weary sort of calm. "I could never trust anything you say again. Making a life with you would be impossible. Without trust there can be no love--only obsession." Even as he was saying the words, he realised it was the truth. And that there was someone waiting for him on the other side of that door, who he did trust, who he loved and who loved him in return. "I am grateful to you for your help with this, and over Marmion. But that is all. I hope you make your fresh start but it will not be with me. Now, we really need to leave." 

She stared at him for a moment and looked like she was going to say more but her posture stiffened as pride took over. "A pity. But it's your loss." The arrogant mask slipped back into place again and her chin lifted. "You know you will never have a woman like me in your bed again! You're the same as the rest of your class--hidebound by lack of imagination." She swept past him, her contempt like a palpable force as she went out of the door. 

It didn't even touch Athos. Instead a wave of relief washed over him as he locked the office door behind them. He had said some of the things he'd needed to say to her, and he now had the means to help save the person to whom his heart now belonged. Besides, he found himself thinking wryly as he followed her out, I'm only a comte. After the King, taking up with me would have been a step down for her! 

They paused at the door into the main , listening for anyone approaching. The coast clear, they exited. Almost immediately Aramis peered out from the recess where he'd been hiding. 

"You're cutting it fine," the other musketeer said urgently. "The guard's due back." The three of them melted back into the side corridor as they heard the sentry's footfall. The air bristled with tension as the moments when the guard grew closer seemed to stretch elastically. With Aramis on one side and Milady on the other, Athos was aware of their body heat; of his lover's subtle fragrance and of his wife's more cloying floral perfume. Aramis looked at him, mouthing, "Any luck? " 

He gave a short reassuring nod. A quick sideways glance at Milady showed her tight-jawed, posture rigid with displeasure. The tiny look of acknowledgement when their eyes met was cold and piercing, like shards of ice. But there was just a flicker of something else: some ember of that fire that had once blazed between them. He had been married to her yet she was still an enigma to him. Perhaps even to herself. 

The guard's footsteps sounded more loudly as he approached. Then stopped. There was a collective intake of breath from the trio. However, a moment later, the sentry sneezed, then moved on ,his footfall echoing down the hall. They waited till he was out of earshot then exited the building the way they'd entered. 

Staving off any discussion until they'd cleared the palace grounds they quickly made their way to where they'd tethered their horses. They mounted and rode with all speed to a point beyond the Louvre gardens, shaded by trees, where they'd agreed to rendezvous earlier. They pulled up and were finally able to talk. 

"So, you found something?" Aramis asked. 

"Yes, we were more successful than we could have hoped." Athos gave Aramis a little sideways glance then leaned forward to stroke his horse's mane then pat her neck. It was not a random act. The manner in which he did it was part of a code the Inseparables used when in the presence of others. It was telling Aramis to follow his lead, let him do the talking and be ready to go for his musket if needed. "We recovered the Queen's document and a half-written draft of a letter from Rochefort addressed to Vargas himself. " He turned to Milady. "You were right about his monumental ego, and his sanity, which is questionable, to say the least. I believe this may be enough to bring him down. Now, there's something I couldn't discuss with you earlier as I was only apprised of it by Treville just before we left." He reached into his saddlebag and brought out a bag that contained gold coins. "He had liaised with Bretagne, who was concerned that if your name was to come forward when this matter was put before the King, it might be to your detriment. Given the King's capriciousness and his reaction over the Marmion incident. Nothing can be taken for granted until Rochefort is arrested and tried. He could claim you were acting solely out of revenge for your public humiliation at his hands. If he were to wriggle out of this, you are one of the people he is likely to come looking for. It has been suggested it would be better for you to be out of his reach, certainly away from Paris, until he is safely deposed. To this end, and as an acknowledgement for your help, I was authorised that if we found evidence I was to offer you this sum. The other half to be paid once Rochefort is found guilty." 

Milady looked at him through narrowed eyes. 

"You must see the sense of this," Athos continued. "Presumably this is why you came to me as an intermediary. And you know the King--his intransigence and his unpredictability. It is your decision, of course. This would give you a chance to get away to safety and make a fresh start, if you wish." 

Her face gave away nothing but he knew her mind would be racing as she weighed up the options. 

"How would I received payment of the second half, if Rochefort is deposed?" 

"That would be done through me. If matters are successfully resolved, the whole of Europe will resound with the news. You can get a message to me, tell me how I can contact you; I will arrange for Bretagne to release the money and see that it reaches you. You have my word on it," 

"And what guarantee do I have that you will not double-cross me? You are surely not going to tell me you'll swear it on our marriage vows?" she added with a cynical curl of her lip. 

"I swear it on my honour," Athos said with quiet candor. "On my father's grave, and on my mother's. " 

His father had died not long before he met Anne; his mother within a year of his father, too weakened by grief to withstand the illness that claimed her. So she knew first hand how the double bereavement had affected him and the strength of any promises made in his parents' names. 

After a moment she gave a tight nod and came forward, taking the bag of gold which he proffered to her.  
"How should I get word to you? " 

"A private message sent to the garrison is probably the most secure. I will leave it at your discretion as to when it is safest for you to contact me. We will apprise Bretagne of the situation as soon as we hand over the letter. If anything happens to me before I hear from you, Treville will ensure you receive your payment." He looked across at his lover. "Aramis, as my fellow musketeer, will bear witness to this." 

Aramis, who'd been watching the proceedings with fascination, nodded soberly. "I will." 

Milady gave him one of those cynical but intense looks of hers. "Well, you do have a vested interest in seeing Rochefort brought down," she commented drily. 

"We need to get this document to Bretagne with all due speed. This isn't over till Rochefort is legally condemned," Athos reminded her. 

"And my name kept out of it for now? I would suggest the source being someone in the Spanish espionage side, changing sides for gain." 

"That's how I believe Bretagne will present it. The source's identity to be kept anonymous for safety reasons and so they could be used again."" 

Milady nodded. "Very well, I will get a message to you when the time is right." She gave a dry laugh. "Though part of me would have loved to see Louis' face when his bosom friend is revealed for the treacherous snake that he is! Either way, I shall enjoy the fall of Rochefort very much." She made to attach the bag of coins to her belt. Her feline gaze raked over Athos again. "Perhaps you can tell me of it, when next we meet." Then the smile of the predator: confident, with just a touch of sensuality. "It's always adieu with us, Olivier. Never goodbye." Then with an inclination of her head, she spurred on her horse and was gone, in the direction of the city. 

Athos felt a little quiver in the pit of his stomach; perhaps a sense of prescience that this time it wasn't just adieu. The overwhelming feeling was one of relief. He looked across at Aramis, to see exactly the same emotion registered on his lover's face. 

"Well played," Aramis said, with an admiring look. 

"Let's put some distance between her and us before we congratulate ourselves. Then I'll tell you everything." 

They galloped a little further, going to the edge of the woodland area and pulled up, once it became evident that Milady was not following. 

"Treville caught me outside, and gave me instructions, and the gold. He wanted to make sure she'd fulfill her end of the bargain but with an incentive of extra payment so she wouldn't pull any tricks. There wasn't a chance to tell you." Athos's sense of relief at being to share the truth with his partner was palpable. "As well as what I've already told you of Rochefort's letter, there's also mention of Anne: of her work for the Cardinal and for him. Fortunately I found it first and was able to pocket it. I couldn't take a chane on her discovering its contents. 

Aramis gave him a penetrating look. "She made a play for you, didn't she?" 

"Yes, she did." Athos gave a rueful sigh. "As you predicted. Just as we were about to leave, she made a show of wanting to start a new life, and that there would always be something between us. Nothing occurred, of course--other than my making it plain that it wouldn't happen. Ever." 

There was a slight relaxing of Aramis's features. "I knew it. She had that look of the huntress about her. And did not look best pleased when you came out of Rochefort's office." He couldn't quite suppress a little smile. "Those few minutes you were in there seemed like a century." 

"For me also, and not something I want to repeat!" The other said with conviction. "Having failed in one goal, she was not in the best of moods and perfectly capable of pulling a musket on us. And she's nearly as good a shot as you. I thought it best to divert her with Bretagne's gold and the promise of more." 

"Well, it's where her heart truly lies," Aramis said acerbically. However his expression showed where his own heart truly lay. 

Athos's own heart swelled in response. If there's ever been any doubt that he'd made the right choice, the love in the other's eyes chased it away. It gave Athos a real sense of belonging, so different from the one offered by Milady, which had, in essence, always been a fantasy. It was with great warmth that he said, "Indeed it is, mon cher. There was a secret compartment from the Cardinal's days. It had never been touched by Rochefort but did contain a cache of gold and jewels. Which I suspect is one of the reasons she was there." 

"True to form, then!" Aramis gave a dry laugh. "Might she go back for it?" 

"She could decide it might be worth the risk. In a way it might be for the best. It would give her a fresh start. When the King reads that letter--" 

"France will become too hot for her!" Aramis declared. Seeing his lover's slightly trouble look , he laid his hand on Athos's wrist. "You couldn't warn her." He knew the other had made a choice, to keep him safe, and loved him all the more for it. The nobleman's sense of honour might mean that there was always some lingering sense of responsibility to the woman who had been his wife, even if he was no longer in love with her. It was who he was, and Aramis loved that also. "She's a born survivor, that one." The reassuring pressure of his hand increased. "She's hurt you enough. Let it go." 

"You're right," Athos said after a moment as he collected himself and threw Aramis a grateful look, "Now, we have work to do." He patted his pocket. "Rochefort says the musketeers are a thorn in his side. The corner of his mouth lifted slightly. "Shall we go and prove him right?" 

Aramis responded with a grin and they spurred their horses on towards the city. 

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	11. Chapter 11

The Comte de Bretagne who had been in overall charge of running the domestic espionage service for the Crown for several years, had an office in the Louvre. The real heart of the operation, however, was in a non-descript house in a quiet street within a short distance of the palace; a more suitable venue for the comings and goings of agents and other informants. It was there that Athos and Aramis made their way to after parting from Milady. They were shown inside by a wizened but sharp-eyed concierge. They'd been there on business several times before during Treville's era, so they were ushered straight into the comte's office. Bretagne, a dark, distinguished man in early middle age with a touch of grey at his temples, was sitting at his desk, deep in discussion with Treville, and sprang to his feet the moment they entered. 

"Athos, Aramis!" He shook their hands warmly and gestured for them to sit. "This is a bad business with Rochefort! Now, tell me--have you been able to search his office?" 

"Yes, sir, we were successful. There was a letter, addressed to Vargas himself; half=completed but sufficient to show his intent." 

Bretagne let out a breath that Athos suspected he'd been holding metaphorically since he'd heard the news about Rochefort. "Excellent, gentlemen! That is going to make this business much less difficult." His mouth quirked ruefully. "Although it gives me no joy to have evidence that the King's First Minister is a traitor. I take it you were able to get in and out without arousing suspicion?" 

Aramis told him that he had stood watch and the others had been able to get in and out undetected. 

"What of Milady?" 

"As you suggested, sir," Athos said, "I offered her half the fee and implied that laying low for a time, until this business is concluded, would be advisable." 

Bretagne nodded approvingly. "Good. I haven't totally ruled out using her services in the future, but at present her involvement might just muddy the waters with the King." 

"Receiving your instructions was fortuitous, sir. There is a passage in the letter that directly refers to her work for the Cardinal. I couldn’t take any chance of her finding that out. Fortunately I came across the letter first and was able to pocket it. Once away from the palace, I made a strong case for her taking the money and disappearing for a while." 

"Yes, if she'd known that, she was quite capable of shooting one or both of you on the spot!" Bretagne snorted. "Despite her assumed name, she is no lady! I know of your history with her, he added, directing a look of some sympathy towards Athos. "Now, may I see the letter?" 

Athos reached into his inner pocket and handed the document over to the Comte. Bretagne's face grew pale as he read the damning missive. 

"My Dear Vargas, 

Your last missive ordered me to take no further action until I could apprise you of the situation with the King. What I have to relate is that the success of my mission has gone way beyond any expectations that either of us entertained. I have take advantage of, or have engineered events in such a way that I have effectively isolated the King from all others who could advise or influence him. I even managed to manipulate his mistress, the Cardinal's former assassin and spy, into working for me. Then, when she fell out of favour, I stripped her of her assets, so she could be of use again. I have allowed nothing and no-one to stand in my way, personally eliminating anyone who threatened me with exposure. 

The musketeers continue to be a thorn in my side but their influence has waned now that their former Captain, Treville, no longer has the ear of the King. I will deal with them in due course. I fear nothing in my position as the King's First Minister and trusted confidante. I have that snivelling little rat Louis in the palm of my hand. Spain owes me a medal at the very least in what I have had to endure in putting up with his caprice and childish moods. However, it was worth it. No-one else now has as great an influence on him--even the Queen. 

It is I who am the power that effectively rules France. I no longer require your direction or guidance. It is I, not you, who will decide the future of my country--" 

Bretagne's expression grew grim with determination as he passed the letter to Treville 

"Mon Dieu! This...madman cannot be allowed to remain in his position. I will see him removed this night or be damned for it!" 

While Treville read the letter, Athos addressed Bretagne. 

"I found this inside a novel, sir. Cervantes "Don Quixote". I believe this note could be a draft which Rochefort intended to draw up as a message in code, using the book as a cipher." 

"Yes, that is often the way of it," Bretagne confirmed. "Did you by any chance note the edition and the page where this was placed?"   
Athos said that he had, and also handed over the spare keys to Rochefort's office. Bretagne made a note of the book's details and said his codebreakers might be very grateful for the information if it came to deciphering any other documents that might come to light. 

Treville, although prepared for the contents of the letter, shook his head in disbelief as he handed it back to Bretagne. 

"The gall of Rochefort! Someone had better be on hand with the smelling salts when the King reads this!" 

"And perhaps, "Aramis suggested drily, "Something to extinguish flames?"   
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